


Metamorphoses

by Al_D_Baran



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha Shiro (Voltron), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Animal Transformation, Bestiality, Creampie, Curses, Daddy Issues, Fantasy, Furry, Gender Roles, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Intersex Omegas, Knotting, Lactation, M/M, Magic, Marking, Marriage, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Keith (Voltron), Possessive Behavior, Referenced Sexual Slavery, Size Difference, Size Kink, Temporary Character Death, Vaginal Sex, Voltron Kink Bang 2018, Watersports, Wolf Shiro (Voltron), but nothing happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 16:10:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 41,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14855945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Al_D_Baran/pseuds/Al_D_Baran
Summary: After a witch curses Shiro to become a wolf, he and Keith try to find a way to give him back his original appearance.





	1. act i

**Author's Note:**

> sup guys!  
> this was written for the voltron kink big bang. big big big round of applauds for the mods to have organised such a nice event!  
> the beautiful art pieces have been made by lee, bloopnsfw@tumblr [here](https://bloopnsfw.tumblr.com/post/174611962747/shiro-thinks-of-keith-laying-on-a-mattress-of) and by andy [here](https://mondainsfw.tumblr.com/post/174608342519/another-piece-for-the-voltronkinkbang-this), mondainsfw@tumblr! so go show them some love.

##             i.

 

 

 

Living in a small village far away from most exchange comes with perks.

For starter, Keith doesn’t have to worry about being out of fashion. A simple _chiton_ will do, and no one will care about what he wears. He doesn’t have to worry about anything political – their only authority is Allura, queen of their remote location, and she lets him do as he pleases as long as he fulfils her requests; not much, just clean the house they live in and prepare the meal, clean the clothes and blankets, tidy the house and make sure everything is at its place. The best part might be that since they are so few no one quite cares to lock Omegas inside. He can come and go almost freely, perhaps less so than a peasant but more than a city Omega.

Allura assures him as much. After all, she is the only one who goes to the city. It wouldn’t be proper for an _aristoi_ like him to always be outside.

The downsides are still numerous.

There’s nothing to do.

Beside nothing, there is sheep herding, plucking olives from trees and walking along the coast on pebble beaches and white sand, a privilege Allura keeps for good days. Keith loves the freedom of the sea, the smell of iodine and salt, the waves licking at his feet…

Allura always tells him he needs to know these things. Cooking, cleaning, singing, sewing, embroidery, poetry… Those are such things an _aristoi_ Omega must know to land a good husband. Keith is good at most of these things, perhaps a little more for poetry and singing than to entertain guests or cooking. Allura’s never complained. As an Alpha, she’s quite laid-back, especially about rules of conduct, but she’s warned him his mate might not be so lenient.

Keith sometimes wonders why Allura never proposes to mate him. Truthfully, he knows she has no interest in a marriage that would lessen her power over her tiny city, but Keith thinks they would be a good match. He’s been living there since he was a child, since his father left him with his old friend to go for war, wishing for his young son to be protected from alphas who would have wanted the coveted title of their lineage of heroes and grand soldiers.

Alfor had gladly accepted, only to pass during another war. Once his tomb was sealed and the dust had settled, Keith had shared Allura’s pain. It had been so long since his own father was gone he had come to consider Alfor as his own, even if he remembered Thace clearly and still loved him dearly.

Perhaps he was dead, now. After all, it had been more than fifteen years and Keith would be old enough to marry soon.

Still. Would his father agree to him being wed and mated to Allura? Keith considers her like a sister, he had grown up with the girl ever since he was a babe, dragged around on adventure with the cheerful young princess on rocky beaches and lush forests. Going outside.

City Omegas never have that chance, or so he is told.

Allura pulls him out of his reverie with a tap to his shoulder, “You’ve been weaving this piece of clothe all wrong for five minutes now, Keith. Is there something bothering you?”

“Uh…” Keith looks down to his handiwork. The threads aren’t as closely woven as they should be – he’s not good at this and has mourned ever being able to make something as beautiful as Lance can, but he’s not usually such a catastrophe. “No. I’m fine.”

He’s just being distracted by his own thoughts.

Keith stares at her still as Allura looks back down to a book in her laps. Keith doesn’t _need_ to know how to read, as an Omega, and he envies her.

Being an Alpha sounds so easy.

 

 

 

There’s a visitor in town.

Keith would have liked a week’s notice or so.

Or well – he had one. Allura’s sudden obsession for everything to be sparkly clean in not only their own house, but the entire village. As if they had to impress a single man, for some reason that escapes Keith. 

It’s not like he’ll leave their tiny village with any other thought beside it being remarkably small.

The man will be there in an hour and Keith is already exhausted, standing in the golden light of sunset as the Alphas light the torches. Omegas are caring for their children, giving them apples and a few other sweet fruits while they wait for their meals. Keith, as the Omega living with their Queen, is expected to entertain the guest and… Keith doesn’t know what to do.

He’s bad at this.

Especially bad. Being social is definitely not something he knows how to do even though Allura has told him that she _trusts_ him. He doesn’t want to disappoint her but Gods, what if he bores that "Shiro" out of his mind?

Allura has assured him that Shiro is great, that he would understand his shyness and awkwardness and meet him halfway but… still. For all his friend’s praises of the man, Keith still has never met him. Allura had met him in the city apparently, during his studies and during hers. They had hit it off and became good friends and had promised to see each other again.

There’s always excitement when an _aristoi_ moves from his own village, but Keith only knows that Shiro's only a noble and no King of his own city. Rich enough to afford studies in a remarkable city such a Thessela, just like Allura, and dutiful enough to become a soldier. He’s renowned in the army but Keith had never heard his name before.

It’s… a little weird that Allura has never mentioned him, Keith thinks as he adds the last touches to the meals, supervised by Parthenope, the village’s oldest Omega. The wrinkled old woman pats his back, to gain his attention, “A little more ewe’s milk in this, my dear. There you go… that’s just enough. You’re good, has anyone told you before?”

“Not such a good cook,” Keith says with a sheepish smile. “Thank you.”

Allura enjoys his cooking even when she complains he makes a mess each time he does. It’s all gentle, still. Allura doesn’t really mind so much and… hopefully, Shiro will like the food, too.

A few young children pass next to them while laughing, excited from both the honey treats and the feast. Their parents rush behind to scold them, their chubby Omega parent clapping their hands as they promise punishment if they don’t calm down and keep quiet.

Keith returns home to add the very last few touches to the bedroom.  Autumn is here already, and the boy fluffs up a wool blanket he’s left on their most recent bed, looking at the hides that made the mattress with envy. Shiro is an incredibly important guest to deserve such a regal welcoming.

When he comes out Keith almost stumbles into the wide chest of an Alpha, glaring up to meet the grey gaze of a stranger.

Oh.

Is that—

“Keith!” Allura shouts, pulling him into a warm hug. Keith answers a little numbly, eyes still glued to the handsome face of the new Alpha. His nose can’t help but notice how lovely he smells too, like a warm summer night. Keith doesn’t feel the chill of the night as strongly as he did moments ago, with that earthy smell filling his mind.

“This is Shiro,” Allura adds, keeping an arm around Keith’s shoulders as she gestures for them to shake hands.

Shiro takes the lead with a warm smile, squeezing Keith’s limp hand before the boy squeezes back determinedly.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Allura wouldn’t stop talking about you.” Shiro inspects him, eyes falling to the expertly woven chiton that falls over him, appreciating the vermilion colour of the velveteen fabric. “Allura didn’t mention you would be so cute, though.”

Oh. Keith turns to Allura, unsure if he’s begging for help or wishing to kill her. The Alpha just laughs and pats his shoulder with a grin, “Cheer up, Keith. You’d have to be blind not to notice how pretty you are. Ask anyone.”

It’s… not really something Keith thinks matters much. After all – he’s an _aristoi_ , and what will matter in the end is his noble lineage of heroes. A potential mate will have little care in what he looks like and care much more for his title than anything else, care more about his fertility than his beauty.

“And now, what do we say?”

Allura urges him with a few nudges.

Keith grunts, “Thanks. You’re um – “Handsome. Keith’s never seen an Alpha so handsome, tall and broad. Now, that man eats three meals a day for sure and has time to train in a gymnasium. Keith imagines him oiled, fighting an Alpha just as muscular as he is in a match of pankration. The idea has him shiver, if only a little bit. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

Allura calls for dinner moments later. She and Shiro sit on either side of him, and Keith feels a little trapped between the two Alphas, just for a moment. Shiro is as handsome as he is charming, the conversation comes easily for what Keith thinks is the first time in his life. Shiro is a smart man, an avid reader of poetry who mentions names Keith has only heard of, and he talks of the _Historia Animalium_ he’s brought with him.

Allura lets them talk and watches them with mischief in her eyes, elbowing Keith a few times during the night to encourage him to participate a little more. Keith can’t say he’s as educated as Shiro, but he tries, brings what he’s learned of the forest in his youth to the conversation. Shiro shows great interest when he speaks of him of his youth, spent with his father Thace and his group of friends, living together in a remote city-state that Kolivan led with wisdom, just before the war broke out.

Keith had been taught to read by his father and Ulaz then, but with the war… what he knows now is too little to understand the complicated symbols of Shiro’s books, having forgotten what he once knew. Alfor was a great man – but he was more conservative than Thace was and Allura doesn’t have the patience or the skills to teach him letters again.

“What a shame,” Shiro says. “I’ll help you. You’re smart – Omegas should read just as we do.”

“What a peculiar Alpha you are,” Keith says in return, picking his cup of wine to help ease his nerves. He limits himself to two glasses, already feeling his mind grow a little fuzzy. He pushes his plate away, having eaten more than his fill already, yawning as the party still beats with full rhythm around them.

“Would it be alright to take a walk?” Shiro asks, placing his utensils over the half-eaten meal in his own bowl. “It’s good for digestion. Just along the pebble beach. I’ll bring him back to you in no time.”

Allura giggles as she swallows a bite of mutton. “Sure. Take good care of him. I’d like to keep him in pristine state.”

“I’ll make sure to keep him out of troubles,” Shiro promises.

Keith stands to follow him, trusting Allura’s judgement of the Alpha. If she lets him go alone with him… Shiro mustn’t be of any danger to him. The moon hangs high in the sky that night, full and bright, reflecting on the calm waves of the sea. Keith drags his feet as Shiro walks beside him, stopping once they can’t hear the noises of the feast behind them.

“I needed a break,” Shiro confesses with a long sigh. “I’m… not so good with being surrounded by people for too long. That’s why I’ve installed myself on the shore. The Isles are always so busy, I prefer the tranquillity.”

That, Keith can relate to.

“Same for me. This place is… much calmer than where I lived with my father but it’s nice. I like the quiet.”

“It’s just so nice here, isn’t it?” Shiro says, picking a pebble to throw it on the water, making it ricochet a few times before the sea swallows the smooth rock with an audible _gloup_.

Keith does the same, remembering the technique from when he was allowed to spend the day playing outside with Allura. He misses those simple days, when not so much of his day was spent learning with the village’s Omegas about tending to the house, cooking, sewing… It’s a strict life and Keith would rather be outside, in the woods, enjoying the nature around their hamlet.

“How’s your house?” Keith asks, curious to know more of Shiro, still.

“It’s… on the shore. I fish most days. The Islands are just an hour of rowing away.” Shiro sits on a beached log, patting the sun-bleached wood to dust it and allow Keith to sit next to him. “I have a few goats I use for milk and cheese. A few chickens. My house is… a little larger than yours, I’d say. I have a room I’ve made, in case I find a mate, so we… have a place for a pup. And after that, I could add more.”

Keith thinks that being a family man somehow… fits Shiro. Even if with his athletic and muscular built, Keith would have expected him to be a battle-thirsty warrior. Allura’s mentioned he’s a soldier, a few days ago, too. There’s no war for now and – Keith feels worry, thinking he’ll have to leave and fight, as peace never last long between the cities.

They chat for most of the night, with Keith huddling a little closer for warmth. Shiro wraps his arm around his shoulders, enveloping the Omega with his own fur cloak, regaling him with stories of the Isles and his travels all across the Attique, of things he’s learned then, of how other cities lived. He speaks in great length of the beauty of the capital, of other countries. Of the barbarians and their customs, of the Empire he’s visited multiple times.

Keith wants adventure and to see the world, fantasising in his own confidence about doing so with Shiro. How much safer could he be than with a strong, handsome and polite Alpha like this? Shiro’s a good party. Keith thinks he must be promised to someone else, that his family must have found someone in the Isles who’s lucky to have landed the jackpot.

When a silence draws over them for a few minutes, Shiro timidly tries, “Uh… how long have… you and Allura been mated?”

Keith stares at him like Shiro’s grown another head.

“Since we _what_?” He chokes on his own spit, starting to laugh without being able to help himself. “Oh, oh… uh, we’re not. We’re not mated.”

Shiro flushes bright red. “I’m – I’m really sorry. The smell – you two really…”

They smell almost the same. Kind of like a mated pair. But not quite.

“Yes, we… live together, you know? We’re bound to have a similar scent.” And they weren’t of the same blood, too. Of course… they didn’t smell like family. They smell like something else, something that is almost what one would expect of mates. “But we’re not. Mated, I mean.”

Shiro laughs, awkward and adorable. Keith feels his heart beat a little too hard.

How could someone let an Alpha be so handsome?

 

 

 

That night, Shiro forgets to take the wolf fur he’s left him. Keith feels giddy, like a little boy with a new toy he loves when he sleeps with it, enjoying the mane of the collar as he buries his nose inside it. Allura watches him, as if she knows something Keith doesn’t.

He ignores it.

That night, he dreams of unknown forests and apples, a bright moon in the sky and Shiro, his rough hands on his arm and his breath, a little too close to the crook of his neck to be proper. His teeth are sharp, and the young man tilt his head, wanting the thrill of it all. Shiro’s eyes gleam in the night, dangerous and wild, yet, Keith feels safer than ever.

In the morning, he wakes to prepare breakfast and finds Shiro already up, brightening as soon as he sees him.

The task is much less boring when he has someone to speak to. The odd Alpha helps him cut the fruits, clumsy and sweet. Keith takes his hands to help him learn, pressing against his back as he tries, a little vainly, to keep his modest chest from pressing too much against Shiro’s muscles.

Shiro’s hands are gigantic under his, even against the juicy, fat apple he holds.

 

 

 

It only takes a few days for Keith to grow used to Shiro’s presence. He becomes part of their routine and Allura slips away for most of the day to unknown places. Keith feels more comfortable with him than he has with anyone he’s ever met, becoming fast friends and nearly inseparable.

There’s still some awkwardness between them, Keith puts it to their different natures. He’s an Omega and he’s an Alpha… Keith doesn’t think much of it, perhaps much less than Shiro might.

A week or so after Shiro’s moved in with them, Keith dreams again of his hands. Big, scarred and calloused… he pictures them on that apple, careful as he cut it. How these hands move to his breasts, feeling the soft and timid swell of flesh just beneath the pink of his nipple, feeling it as if he would have with a tit His thumb presses to his hard nub.

Keith wakes up to his soaked thighs, lifting his blanket to stare at his flushed skin. It wasn’t much – he’s had worse dreams during his adolescence but… somehow, it feels different. Keith can’t take the image out of his head, can’t help but picture Shiro’s hands on him, this time, fully conscious of what he’s doing. He thinks of those gentle hands, travelling down to his thighs, of one of them moving between his thighs as his own does the same.

Keith stops himself abruptly when he notices what he’s imagining, as if he were doing something wrong, thinking of something forbidden. Shiro is… he’s a friend. What is he doing?

When he meets Shiro’s gaze in the morning, Keith can’t help but blush. This time, he too, feels painfully awkward around Shiro, craving his presence even when it makes his stomach do somersaults inside of him.

 

 

 

The second week goes quicker than Keith expects it to. It seems that, just days after Shiro has appeared into his life, the boy can’t imagine how things would be without him around. His jokes are painfully stupid, but Keith can’t help to love them, can’t help but love the man’s constant attention.

The village quickly takes to the man’s presence, too. With so few people amongst them, an energetic newcomer is a god-sent. There’s few men able to carry such heavy weights and Shiro is always willing to lend a helping hand to anyone in need. Housewives are especially happy to call for his help to repair anything needed while the men are working in the orchards or tending to the sheep.

Keith knows why.

Shiro is terribly handsome, with his dark hair and his grey eyes. There’s so much more than his face about him and Keith notices how Anthousa, a Beta woman who's asked for some help with a crack in her ceiling, will let her eyes wander to Shiro’s ass. Her mate could have easily fixed it but… it seems like she enjoys staring at Shiro’s thighs and ass.

Keith blushes.

He doesn’t quite understand why but Shiro haunts his dreams. Every little details he notices about him are somehow added to the list of things he’ll see. The shape of his lips and their lovely colour. The way his smile stretches and nearly split his face in two, how lovely his laughter sounds.

It becomes a little harder to spend as much time with Shiro, seeing how hard his heart insists to beat whenever they are together. There’s an awkwardness to both now, an eagerness to stay together despite it. Allura seems amused by them and Keith can’t help his surprise when she asks him, “Would you be interested in him?”

“Interested?”

He’s befriending an Alpha. Something most would find improper and something Shiro himself seems to agree with, but Keith doesn’t care about what anyone thinks.

“I like being with him,” Keith explains, simply. Could he have interest in him? Keith has never felt love, nor has he ever had much of an interest in it. He would be stupid not to notice his attraction – it’s understandable, he thinks. Everyone must be attracted to him. Shiro is beautiful as he is smart and nice.

“You seem to fancy him quite a lot,” Allura carries on. She seems serious, as if this is more than small talk.

Keith doesn’t know what to say. Denying would be a lie, speaking would be baring more than he can handle.

 

 

 

## ii.

 

 

 

Shiro’s never believed in love at first sight until he saw Keith.

For sure, he believed the gods might have plans for some of them. That somewhere, there could be the other half of him, fated or through luck and kindred spirit, just waiting for him to meet them.

It’s been a pipe dream, a daydream that’s often become something he’ll laugh at. Being cheesy isn’t something he’s afraid of. It’s part of him, something not so intimate he still willingly keeps to himself, all too aware men shouldn’t be thinking of such rosy water plots.

And yet when he sees Keith, he thinks it could be exactly what he’s been waiting for.

He’s accepted Allura’s offer without thinking much of it – he was curious to _finally_ see the famous Keith she would never stop talking about. And now that he sees him, Shiro understands and his heart clenches in his chest.

Are they – surely, they must be. When Keith tells him otherwise and seems amused that they are _not_ mated and will never be, Shiro feels like an idiot. He’s truly believed all dinner he would be nursing a broken heart but now, he feels hope soar high in his chest, slither through the gaps of his rib cage and flee.

But he shouldn’t.

Allura certainly didn’t bring him here as an eligible bachelor to the boy she swore she’d protect and kill for, without any hesitation. Shiro believes her. When he can’t help his eyes from straying he can feel her eyes on his back, urging him to keep a most superb behaviour when around his heart-throb. Shiro’s never cared about the way a chiton could slip over a shoulder, nor has he given much thought to the way Omega’s lips are often so rosy and plump.

Keith makes him feel like a teenager again, like he’s lost the weight of the last few rough years off his shoulders. There’s something refreshing about being with him and, now, Shiro fears his attraction ruined whatever was between them before. Perhaps his passion has scared Keith. Shiro feels like the grandest of idiots, having ruined their blooming friendship with his too-clear desires.

It’s hard not to think of Keith like this. Harder when he sees him, beautiful and full of energy and life, with those ink-brush like hair and indigo eyes. Shiro couldn’t help but compare them to the night sky for himself when he first saw him, on that first night.

He always steals glances of him, surreptitiously mapping out each and every little detail about the boy who’s stolen his breath, who still steals it each time he dares look his way. Allura notices his bleeding yearning and pities him.

“Take a chance,” she says with a laugh. “If he likes you, I’ll consider offering you his hand in wedlock, but you must deserve it first. Or I’ll cut both yours, so you’ll be unable to take him from me.” Allura is fiercely protective of Keith, mischievous when she speaks but serious nonetheless. If Shiro fails, Allura won’t hesitate to cut off his head to ward off potential suitors she might disapprove of.

Does this mean he’s been approved, at least for a trial-period?

Shiro takes it this way. What kind of task must he accomplish to gain Keith’s approval and earn Allura’s trust? Whatever it is, Shiro wants nothing more but to succeed, to bring whatever slain beast would please the one he wants to be complete him, whatever jewels he needs to bring back from impossible shores that should adorn him.

Something tells him still, this isn’t something Keith wants. Grand displays of affection aren’t Keith's thing – Shiro can tell that beneath that gruff exterior lies a shy young man, awkward and sweet at the same time. Keith needs, more than pelts and petticoats and gems, someone to be there for him and provide, to listen to his worries. To accept his shortcomings and how he’s not good at entertaining guests, comfortable in a pair and yet feeling too much in a crowd of three.

Shiro overcomes his own timidity, his own swallowing and unforgiving anxiety of somehow messing this up, and he does every little steps Keith’s undisclosed language seems to ask for. He’s careful, not unlike a sailor judging the sea, his harsh mistress and only love still, ever-changing yet breath-taking.

Through trials and errors, Shiro learns that Keith loves fruits from the forest. Rather than to ask a villager which ones are edible and which ones are poisonous, Shiro brings Keith to the bushes, filled with juicy bays, earning the boy’s unhidden joy. Keith loves being outside, surrounded by nature, away from the confines of the home he’s expected to nurture. Keith is an unusual Omega and it would be even more unusual for a man to mate someone he loves so dearly… but all Shiro wants is Keith’s happiness, to see him shovel mouthful after mouthful of delicious berries into his mouth, like a child in front of his favourite dessert.

Keith licks his fingers without shame once he is done.

Shiro can’t help but look away the next morning when he’s imagined those lips around something else all night.

Keith will be the death of him, without a doubt.

 

 

 

When they had first met, Keith had mentioned being sad about forgetting what he had known of letters as a boy. It wasn’t out of malice from Alfor, the King had been a busy man and had had no time to sit down and teach another child letters he would not use, letters that could spoil him chances to find a suitable mate.

Later, it had been Allura’s impatience with him that had stopped the project. Allura is still just as busy and the only one who could teach him.

Until Shiro, of course, who took it upon him to teach Keith what he knows. Shiro is a patient teacher, calmly sitting through Keith’s many fits of frustration. It’s harder to teach a grown man how to read – Shiro understands, he knows how difficult it must be to see others do this with ease when he can barely read simple words.

It’s the first time Keith opens up to him about his missing father, and his mysterious mother.

“Papa taught me to read before we left,” Keith says, toying with a piece of paper between his hands. His letters are shaky, difficult, the movements difficult to learn when they are not as calculated, automatic as they are in adept readers. “I knew a lot. And then… he had to go to war with his allies, my Mama’s tribe. So… he left me here.”

_And then he never came back,_ is the implied ending. Shiro doesn’t force Keith to add anything and reaches, checking in with the boy before he wraps his palms around his hands. Surely, Thace has died now. Shiro doesn’t think it useful to say something Keith must know intimately, even when he still hopes to see him, at the top of the hill, running with open arms.

When Shiro brings him closer, Keith wraps himself around his chest, comfortably settling there. Shiro kisses his hairline. Keith purrs, a little louder when Shiro peppers a few more kisses, inhaling the deeply natural scent of his hair. It brings pictures of a clearing to his mind, apple trees in bloom during a warm spring.

“And your mother?” he tries, running his thumb across the delicate knuckles of Keith's hand.

“Gone. Guess she died giving birth to me. Papa always said… she was amongst the stars. When I asked about her.”

Shiro understands. How Keith grew up, with euphemisms shedding their deceitful exteriors, going from gentle lies to harsh realities. Mother wasn’t a star, she was dead.

And Father wasn’t coming back.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro murmurs against the Omega’s forehead, unsure of what else he can say. What words could heal this? What words hasn’t Keith already heard? “He knew you’d be safe here… he made the right choice.”

Keith doesn’t say a word. Perhaps because there’s nothing any of them can say, nothing that would help this ache Shiro can’t help but mirror.

All he can do is keep Keith safe, tucked in his arms.

“I still miss him,” Keith says, in a tiny voice. “I want him to come back.”

“Oh, baby,” Shiro can’t help himself, heartbroken at Keith’s vulnerability. Later, he’ll be amazed and honoured Keith trust him enough to shed part of his armour, to shed the breastplate and allow him to have a glimpse of the beating heart beneath. Shiro takes the key that allows him between these high, solid walls and cradles it to his own heart.

“It’s ok,” he shushes in a whisper, threading his fingers through Keith’s hair, noticing the hitches in his respiration, the dryness of his cheek. Keith won’t allow himself to weep even when his voice wouldn’t deceive a fool. It’s alright. “There’s no shame in that. I assure you – not at all. It’s normal to feel this way… even if it hurts.”

“I don’t – I don’t wanna be safe, I wanna be with him.” The words come like a confession in a hurried whisper. “I just… didn’t want this.”

“We never have a choice as children,” Shiro muses. “Your father thought this was best for you. It mustn’t have been easy to leave, as much as it was hard for you to stay here.”

Shiro can picture it. Keith, even tinier than he is now, clinging to his sire with generous weeping, begging to not part with him. Left with strangers he was told would care for him, after travelling miles and miles across the City-States, the unknown bedroom that is still stubbornly bare. The months of waiting turning to years, the years to an endless cycle of hope then despair, moderate wishes and child-like yearning.

“I feel selfish,” Keith admits. “To feel this way. I know – now I’m older, I know it must have been hard for him too. To go, like that.”

“You are everything but selfish,” Shiro says, firmly, like an order. “You were a child, Keith. You couldn’t understand. Don’t feel bad for anger you’ve shed in grief.”

Keith looks at him, eyes rimmed red with unshed tears.

Most of all, above gifts and above pelts and gems and rare books and delicious fruits, Keith needs someone to be there for him. To understand, to speak with no fear.

When Keith leans back into him, Shiro thinks he wants to give all that to him, above everything else.

 

 

 

Some things are easier to give; some things are easier to gain.

“Is that wine?” Shiro asks when he enters the hidden garden of Allura’s home, tucked between four walls, kept at the middle of her villa, much like foreign cities pride themselves in having. It’s secluded and private, without any prying eyes able to see inside.

He can’t even begin to think how inappropriate it would be for him to stay when he sees the glass in Keith’s hand, the boy’s flushed cheeks already telling of how alcoholised he is. Is this his second bottle? Shiro can see that not much has been drunk through the dark glass. It wouldn’t surprise him if Keith was a light weight – after all, most Omegas are, even if most are simply not used to drink at all.

“The best around,” the boy assures with a crooked smile, gesturing for him to sit beside him on the carpet of lush grass. Keith sits with his legs bent next to him, leaning into a mess of cushions and blankets. A torch lights his lovely features, painting him gold in the dim light of the evening, smelling enticing amongst all these flowers.

Had he not known better, Shiro might have tricked himself into thinking of Keith as a mischievous spring deity, even in this late season. Winter is approaching with great steps and Shiro decides the culminating autumn deserves a glass, unable to refuse Keith and even less the selection of goat cheeses, meats and honeyed treats on a tray, just next to his feet.

Keith allows him in with much more ease ever since they spoke of their families. Keith’s absent parents and Shiro’s, now gone, the fond memories he had of them. Cuddling comes to them with natural ease, even more when Keith’s inhibitions have been loosened by copious amounts of imported meads and wines. It’s a feast worth their rank and they share a few amusing anecdotes, Shiro retelling his numerous travels across the lands Keith was born in to the boy’s great interest.

Between the alcohol and the food, they grow more comfortable, slither closer.

Keith noses the crook of Shiro's shoulder, slithering under his arm to share his warmth, covering himself tighter in Shiro’s _chlamys_. The cloak swallows his body, thick enough to keep him sufficiently warm to doze off lightly against Shiro's shoulder, confident and trusting, perhaps too much.

Shiro feels his body yearn for more, lips beckoned to Keith’s forehead, to his brow. It’s almost paternal, a fondness for a younger sibling. No, no – it’s more than this, something Shiro’s never felt for anyone, never thought he would feel for anyone. It’s a new feeling, one Keith wasn’t sure if he was capable of. He wonders if Keith feels the same when he giggles at the feeling of the kisses, letting out a murmur of a complain about the scruff of his chin.

Shiro never sees it coming.

He’s gained more than he thought Keith would be willing to give – the boy raises his chin and connects their lips together, transforming Shiro’s hold into an awkward embrace. Keith’s hand finds his chest, laying it just where his heart beats almost delicately, his eyes closing just at the same time. Shiro can’t resist the pout and the brush of their mouths.

He lies his callused hand on Keith’s cheek to bring him closer. Keith straddles his leg with a little gasp, desperate to get closer. Shiro laces his arms around the boy’s waist, enticed by the inexperienced yet enthusiastic way he touches him. It’s so cute – the alcohol lessens the fumbling and boosts Keith’s confidence, allows the boy the courage to urge Shiro to open his mouth.

Truth be told, Shiro has never met an Omega as assertive as Keith. Most are docile and obedient but Keith – oh, gods. If there’s something Shiro didn’t think he’d find nearly as attractive, it’d be to be bossed around. Even more by a tiny Omega, one with such a pretty and deep voice… Shiro lies back and accepts, enraptured by his lover’s willingness.

It’s the alcohol, he thinks, that’s making him be so… _alright_ with what is happening. This is improper, a little voice whispers to him, but Shiro squashes it like an annoying mosquito.

“Dreamed of this,” Keith whispers when their lips part. They look so swollen and red, delectable and kissable. Shiro can barely contain himself as he pushes up for another one.

He has to back away too quickly, still, groaning in bliss as Keith rubs against his covered cock. Shiro reaches between then, hand pushing past the many layers of Keith’s _chiton_ to find his wetness. He’s bare – Shiro feels like he’s touching gold in a river, fingers ghosting over the folds like they are a delicate flower. Keith gasps, as if unsure of what to think of someone other than himself touching his intimacy, but recovers quickly, grabbing the Alpha’s wrist to still it and rubs himself over it.

“Oh, fuck, _Keith,_ ” Shiro can’t even contain the moan that leaves him. He stares in surprise at Keith, holding him as if he’d take away his hand, rubbing his slit against his palm before dragging it up to his fingers. The labia parts slowly, curling wetly around his fingers. Shiro feels his hardness twitch in his pants in need, moving his ring finger to tease Keith’s entrance a little, marvelling at the tightness.

He’s never been with a virgin before, Shiro realises.

Right.

_A virgin._

In-between burning kisses, Shiro pulls away from Keith, flipping them over to push him against the pillows. Keith whines when he feels the hand pulled away just from where he needed it, looking up to Shiro with vengeful eyes.

“Can’t do this, baby,” he mouths against Keith’s jaw, pulling his clothes askew to touch his breasts. They’re as small as he expected, nearly disappearing when Keith extends his arms to get comfortable on the pillows beneath them. “Won’t do this to you…”

That’s Keith’s worth. As much as Shiro wants Keith – what if he doesn’t feel like this for him? A little of fooling around won’t hurt any of them, Shiro has done this a few times. He won’t risk it, won’t risk going inside there, as inviting as Keith’s now uncovered pussy looks. So pink and dewy, puffy outer folds parted in need, so chubby they cover the smaller inner labia, clit peaking out at the top like a tiny jewel.

He starts thumbing it as Keith complains, drawing moans out of him. Keith clings to his belt, dragging his pants off. His cock springs free against his stomach, letting his lover touch it, humming appreciatively at the size. Shiro doesn’t think he’s been this hard in a while and pulls Keith in a dominant kiss.

Gods, he wants him. There’s not a star in the heavens he wouldn’t unhook from the clouds to get even a taste of him. They’re half-undressed like foolish kids – it’s not games he should play anymore at his age. Yet, Shiro yearns for everything Keith can offer. His charms, his wit, vulnerability and this… this enthusiasm is a bonus. Shiro needs it, pulling off by biting Keith’s lower lip.

Keith bucks against him; Shiro’s thumb goes in, letting Shiro experience that wonderful heat again. It would feel amazing, his mind supplies the idea of his cock against Keith’s tiny hole, how big he would feel inside him, how lovely Keith would look… “Shiro, Shiro,” Keith calls, beckoning like a siren in a storm, “Need you… please…”

He’s a good man. He’s been raised with the good manners of an _aristoi_ but some things, Alphas just can’t resist. Shiro feels his will break at Keith’s begging – he’s always been weak to Keith’s commands. He brings his hips closer, biting at Keith’s earlobe, hands moving to bring those lovely, thick thighs closer to his hips.

The head rubs against Keith's wet cunt, Keith’s hips chasing him as he bucks up. Shiro hesitates, mind still remembering some of his manners even in the middle of his arousal, grunting like an animal as they finally touch. It’s like his gland can tell each little detail about what it’s touching, the warmth, how soaked he is… Keith’s warmth would feel delectable and supreme around his shaft.

The head of his cock catches around Keith’s entrance – tight, burnig, even wetter than it looks – before Shiro pulls away, stilling Keith’s hips when they try to bring him back in.

Keith takes it with anger, slapping his shoulder indignantly, “Why d’you stop–” He never get to finish his sentence as Shiro starts to press his cock between his cunt and his thigh, squeezing his wet groin to make it tighter.

“S’not proper,” Shiro says against his lips. “Can’t – do – this,” he grunts between kisses to his jaw and neck. “Not to you.”

Keith watches his cock, just right next to where it should be spearing in. He’s got to have a good view of it now, even in the darkness Shiro’s larger body cast between them. “You’re so big,” he mewls, pushing a hand down to his clit, rubbing it with abandon.

Shiro eyes Keith’s small cock, just over his parted folds. It’s so pretty, just the right size for an Omega, looking absolutely tiny next to his own. Shiro brings Keith’s free fingers to his mouth in a mimicry of sucking on it, blushing at his own idea. It would be improper to be so submissive.

He doesn’t care.

“Wanna touch every inch of you,” Shiro promises, hips stuttering as he’s about to come, pulling away to paint the boy’s stomach in white.

Keith stares at him, still working his nub with his hand. He stares at him in the eyes, not blinking even once as he presses his still spit-wet fingers into his cunt, coming instants later.

Keith will be the death of him.

And strangely enough, Shiro doesn’t care.

 

 

 

## iii.

 

 

 

They can’t even look at each other.

Keith thinks they’re quite pathetic. And he knows this is exactly what Shiro thinks too. Allura has noticed and… Keith doesn’t dare to tell her about the events of that night. It has been a few days now and the thought still won’t leave his head.

Shiro’s hands, his cock, his mouth… Keith still blushes at the idea. Of his fingers… Shiro is so desirable that it ought to be unfair that one single man can he so handsome and yet, so mind-bogglingly frustrating. Their status stopped them from going forward and Keith can’t help but be mad.

Just a little.

He’s thankful nonetheless for Shiro’s presence of mind. Virginity is a crucial factor of transaction in a marriage and… as much as he’s attracted to Shiro, Keith isn’t sure if he is what Shiro wants in a mate. Shiro could marry a princess or someone important from his city. Keith… only has a proud lineage to offer and nothing else.

He can’t see Shiro fooling around with him as a farce. There was no mockery in him and the Alpha did refuse to take him. Keith is sure he would have enjoyed it – with that size? Good heavens. Keith feels warm just from thinking about it again. His worth might be intact but his mind sure isn’t pure as one would expect an unmarried Omega’s to be.

Shiro even avoids him, as if he’s done something wrong. Their conversations always fall short, as if something is bothering Shiro as they speak. Does he feel guilty? Does he feel bad about what they’ve done together? Keith comes to regret the kiss, comes to regret touching Shiro that night. After days of near silence, the boy thinks he must have done something wrong.

It has to be that night.

Is Shiro upset with him because of his improper behaviour?

Is he tempting him too much?

Shiro’s a good man. Maybe he’s being so distant because he fears he’d do something regrettable, something that could taint Keith’s reputation. He’s too good for him, Keith comes to think, as if it’s the most logical conclusion all the evidence points up to.

 This is all his fault.

 

 

 

For two nights, Keith dreams the same dream.

Shiro, kissing him on the lips, chaste and gentle, caring hands set on his hips.

It’s good, it’s soft. The Omega wants more, wrapping his arms around the man, laying his hands over his shoulder blades to bring him a little closer.

Shiro pulls away, without a warning.

Keith can’t see his face. Is that disgust? Pity? He can’t tell.

Shiro’s already turning his heels as Keith recovers from the surprise. He runs but he can’t catch him. He runs as fast as he can but Shiro is always too far away, miles ahead.

He wakes up in tears both times.

He knows he’s ruined everything. Keith knows – he’s just good at pushing people away.

 

 

 

Allura comes to notice his chagrin with disturbing speed. The next day, she sees him moping outside, as if the entire world had befallen oven his shoulders, with only him to bear its entirety. She finds him as soon as he’s alone, hiding between the sheets he’s just washed.

“Did something happen?” Straight and to the point. Keith loves nothing more than Allura’s honestly because he knows he’d try to slither his way out with anyone less determined to pull the worms out of his nose than her.            

It doesn’t mean he won’t try to get away, “What do you mean?”

Allura rolls her eyes. “Come on, you know what I mean. Don’t play dumb with me, Keith. I can see both of you are down. Did Shiro do something?”

Keith hurries to answer, not wanting Allura to put the blame on the Alpha, “No, no! He… didn’t no anything. I just… it’s my fault.”

“Your fault?”

“Yes, I…” He pauses. Is it a good idea to say it? Will Allura be mad? Keith has to find a way to speak up without giving him away. Shiro did nothing wrong. Keith simply… he’s scared him away. “It’s just… I think he doesn’t… have the same feelings that I have for him.”

Allura lifts an eyebrow. “And what makes you say that?”

“I don’t know?” Keith is at loss of words. He doesn’t know what to do to fix everything with Shiro and it frustrates him endlessly. “We… we kissed a little.” It’ just half a lie. “I just. I think he’s not… he doesn’t want to be around me.”

Figures. Just like everyone else eventually got tired of him. It’s not really a surprise and Keith just wondered when Shiro would think he was too much and leave.

Allura just laughs and playfully punches him in the shoulder. “Come on, Keith. Have you seen Shiro since the last few days? He looks like he’s got the weight of the world on his shoulders.”

Keith stares at her. There’s so many other explanations than the good one. Keith can think of way too many, each of them sounding better than the other. Shiro must be already interested in someone else. Maybe, even, he thinks that Keith must be some sort of… easy Omega.

“I…” He doesn’t know what to say.

“Haven’t you noticed?” She seems… full of disbelief, now. As if Keith should have seen something long ago.

“Noticed what?” That Shiro’s nice with him? Shiro’s a noble like him. He ought to be well-mannered, especially with Omegas. It’s just how Alphas should be, especially, as too many Alphas say, with weak-willed Omegas, always slaves to their envies. “Was there something I was supposed to understand?”

Allura closes her eyes and hides her mouth behind a loosely closed fist. “Keith, I love you. But you must be the densest person I know. Really, it’s a miracle nothing has seemed out of the ordinary to you.”

“What are you trying to say?” Keith feels defensive now, as if he has to fight against his friend’s presumptions.

“Shiro’s been trying to court you this whole time and,” she sighs, running both hands through her long white hair. “I thought… you’d notice. He must think that he… crossed your limits. Or that you’re not interested in him.”

Return… his feelings? Keith sits down. How did he… “And you allowed him… and didn’t tell me?”

“I thought this was what you wanted. Don’t you like him? Or at least… enjoy him enough to consider him for a suitor?”

Like him? Keith. Keith thinks he might. Does he? It would explain a lot of things. He’s never… liked anyone. He’s never trusted anyone like he trusts Shiro, even if they have known each other for so little time. He’s never been in love and… would that be it? Wanting to spend time with someone? To see him, see the smile on his face? Shiro always does everything he can to make him happy. From gifts of expensive silk _chitons_ to simply being there for him…

Keith didn’t feel like something to be won over. He’s seen courting in its most obvious form, heavy advances and promising richness and a comfortable house, lovely fabrics and to never miss anything. Shiro, rather than try to win him over… had offered himself. Keith feels impossibly stupid now, knowing his mistake.

“I… I’m an idiot,” he murmurs.

Allura lets out a barking laugh at that, “You sure are. Shiro… he’d be good to you. He likes you a lot – I wouldn’t have considered you two meeting if I didn’t think he was a good man. Even if… it wasn’t really my plan.”

So… she kind of planned this. Keith can’t hate her for it. Allura is in the age of marriage and needs to find herself her own Omega. And she doesn’t want him. Somehow, it’s a relief. Keith stands up as she does, just when she pulls him close for an embrace.

“I want what’s best for you,” she promises.

And Keith believes her.

 

 

 

It’s easy to find Shiro.

Like nearly always, he’s in the gardens, lazying on a lattice chair with a box of grape sitting next to him. Keith can’t help but to stare at his defined chest and abs, hidden behind a tree. He admires him, thinking of the man like a sprawled predator, calm with hidden danger just beneath his skin, between his muscles and tendrils.

Keith likes that danger.

He likes it nearly as much as he likes Shiro’s carefulness and gentle care. He’s asleep now and Keith slithers careful across the marble tiles of the garden alley, linens swishing behind him. Shiro never wakes as Keith stealthily kneels next to him.

He looks like Eros, just as defenceless as love was to Psyche’s kiss as he is now, when the boy lets their lips meet again. It’s chaste, gentle and even timid, especially when he brings his hand to Shiro’s cheek, tracing the defined bones of his face from his fingertips.

Shiro awakes slowly, stretching lazily as Keith climbs next to him, nothing but a kitten’s weight next to his. He curls, a mess of white fabrics in front of the Alpha’s strong chest, purring in happiness at the sensation of warmth he finds there.

He can get used to this.

He would miss this, in fact. He’s already used to it. There’s no denying it.

“You should have told me,” Keith says against his neck, kissing it with devotion. “I’ll say yes.”

“I didn’t… want to force you,” Shiro tries, sounding meek when Keith’s teeth graze his scent gland. Gods, there’s nothing Keith wants to sink his teeth into more than that.

“I won’t let anyone force me to do anything.” Keith’s firm when he says this. No one. No one would make him do something he doesn’t want, especially not something as important as a marriage. Allura wouldn’t leave him somewhere she knows he’d be deeply unhappy either. She let Shiro get this close to Keith because she trusts him, and Keith doesn’t think she’s wrong to.

Shiro is amazing – he’s everything an Omega could want. Them being affectionate for each other is an added bonus, one Keith thinks off as he plays with Shiro’s collar. “I’ll marry you, Shiro,” he means it. Really. “For better and for worse. I trust you with everything a wife has to give.”

Shiro’s face grows a little blotchy. A little too red. It contorts, emotion squeezing his throat as he asks, “Really? You will…”

Keith shuts him off with a laugh, sealing their lips in an enthusiastic kiss.

“Save the tears for the altar, dear husband. You’ll need them there.”

 

 

 

Everything must be perfect.

Or well, that’s what Allura keeps saying. And that’s what Shiro keeps saying. Both Alphas have joined their hefty economies to make a memorable wedding, plunging the village into even more chaos. Everything ought to be ready before the end of the _gamelion_ month.

Allura left for the nearest city for almost two weeks, just to get everything they’d need for the ceremony. She ordered dozens of the region’s specialties, requesting foreign meals to please the guests’ fine palates.

Many curious _aristois_ come from places as far away as the Attique and Anchise. Keith recognises some clothes from even the Empire, strong men as tall and often even taller as Shiro squeezing the man’s hand to pull him in a virile embrace. Old friends from the army, his fiancé had explained to him. Keith is a little wary of them all, but he has always been wary of all strangers – Shiro doesn’t take it the wrong way.

Allura even surprises him with a delegation from the North, where Keith had grown up when he was but a child. The Alpha takes the surprise on his face with delectation as the Marmora surprise everyone with their height, towering even well above Shiro and his soldier friends. Kolivan ruffles his hair much like when he had been a kit, even pulls him close for a quick hug. Antok wastes no time lifting him right off the ground, squeezing him as the rest of the tribe joins the retrouvailles.

Keith holds back tears, eyeing the crowd of barbarians, trying to find his father amongst them – Thace isn’t a Marmora by blood, he’s a prince of Thrace but… he could be there. He’s raised him amongst them. Keith thinks it would have been the most likely place for him to be.

Kolivan notices his hopeful searching and squeezes his shoulder. “Don’t look for him. We haven’t seen your father since he left to bring you here. He’s… not with us. Sorry, kit.”

Keith stands there, a little mad at his own self to have hoped for it, even for a second. After so much time, there’s no room for surprises of any kind, it would simply have been inappropriate to hide amongst the crowd. There’s nothing he can do to kill his wildest hopes still and, somehow, Keith still finds himself scanning all of the guests, hoping even with the intimate knowledge that Thace won’t be there. He’s all too aware it’s useless, all of him knows his father won’t be there.

That doesn’t stop the yearning.

Shiro places a hand on his shoulder, careful and sweet as ever, “Is everything okay? You seemed pretty distant all of a sudden.”

Keith smiles. “I’m fine,” he promises, even if it’s empty.

Shiro seems to see right through him, as if the light could filter right through his words, like they’re made of glass. Even then, he doesn’t push him to talk, wrapping an arm around him, brushing his naked upper arm as if to show him he’s there. “Alright,” he just says, letting Keith have his own privacy to wrap the old wound again. He knows. Keith can nearly smell it on his skin. Another man would have pulled it out of him but… Shiro seems content to comfort him without having to take a look at the gash that just split open again.

Keith leans into him a little more. And Shiro kisses his forehead.

 

 

 

Feasts have never been Keith’s forte.

Especially not those organised for him, even less those of this opulence. Every last surface of the village is covered with flowers and decorations, with as much guests and locals swirling around each other, laughing in mirth. There’s life everywhere, garlands of flowers hanging of trees and houses. Wood lattice arches sprouted everywhere around the cobblestones paths. Curious birds even come around to land on them, picking at the flowers woven into them.

White flowers, a dozen kinds of them Keith can’t even dream of naming even half. He recognises the lilies that grows on the coast. Amongst them, in rare little bunches, are a sort of pink flower, pale like a dewy dawn. Keith recognises them – Selas’ sheaves, as his father called them. Thace would often say they reminded him of his mother. In turn, Keith came to associate them with her.

It’s why he’s chosen to wear some into the traditional crown of flowers woven into the braids of his hair. It’s a Marmora tradition more than one of the Cities or the Empire but Keith insisted and when everyone turned to Shiro, perhaps hoping that they wouldn’t be witnessing the tainting of their ancestral traditions with something as lowly as barbarian ones, the man had just shrugged.

“The flowers are nice, aren’t they?” he said, turning to Keith to smile as he plucked one from the basket he held.

Keith’s spent all afternoon braiding his own hair, making sure the flowers would hold in the delicate coiffure. According to Kolivan, custom would have had his father do it, as if to symbolise giving him away. The man walked in just as he was going to give up, ordering him to sit down as he started working on his braids.

“Your mother would be proud to see you like this,” Kolivan mused, at one point, as if he didn’t mean to. His hands fumbled, he had to start over with a piece of hair.

“Will you tell me about her?” Keith tried, ever hopeful to have answers. Thace never spoke of her. Never had, said that he would someday, when he was bigger, a little older, when he would understand. Assured him she loved him, that she wanted him.

Kolivan never said a word more. Not one for words, the man simply kept his mouth shut. Keith felt loneliness surge through him again, as if he was standing just at the edge of a once fallen bridge. Long ago, the ropes split and let the planks tumble to their doom, way down below to where no could see past the darkness. There had been something behind, a lush and comfortable land and now, turning back was impossible.

That place’s now lost.

Keith thinks, when Shiro drops the glass he’s been holding with endearing fumbling, that the loss of that other shore might not be such a tragedy.

He’s still got forward.

He’ll always have it.

 

 

 

Keith couldn’t have asked for a better husband. In the morning, when he wakes up next to Shiro’s warm body, one of the Alpha’s arms looped around his waist, Keith can’t help but replay the night’s events in his mind. He feels giddy still, about the feast and the way every guest Omega in the village were jealous, yearning to be the one to finally be wed…

Shiro was everything a bride could have dreamt of. Careful and attentive, mindful of his every need… even his wedding gifts were perfect, if a little unconventional. When the murmur of disapproval amongst the crowd around them started, Keith had wanted to read the books he’d been offered even more. Shiro was an unconventional mate and didn’t want Keith to act like an Omega or a wife should, only like himself. For that reason, above anything else, Keith watches his mate’s sleeping face with infinite fondness, giggling softly at how undignified he looks, cheek smushed in a pool of drool.

More than considerate, Shiro is… so much more.

Keith can still feel a dull throb between his thighs, sticky with come from the… _numerous_ couplings of the previous night. If the night a couple should consume their union would usually be the first shared heat – traditionally, the Omega’s first. Shiro seemed to have no interest yesterday to uphold old customs and even prepared a surprise . The man brought him to the pebble beach, far away from their drunk guests to a beached barque, surrounded by a forest of aromatised lanterns, its hull filled with pillows and silk blankets.

They did it there.

Shiro, as always, was everything Keith fantasised about in secret. Gentle and slow – the foreplay lasted nearly long enough for Keith to lose his mind, cunt _needing_ to be filled as Shiro prepared him with his mouth and fingers. Keith yearned for Shiro's cock in his mouth, to lick and touch, hands glued to every little inches of Shiro’s warm, perfect skin and his muscles…

Being truly naked together wasn’t nearly as intimidating as Keith thought it to be. It felt comfortable when Shiro held him, kissed every little inch of his skin and fervently whispered of pretty he was, like a devout prior staring at his alabaster idol, worshipping a beauty he kept insisting was out of this world. Keith, however, felt every bit from the Earth when Shiro awoke his carnal desires , the primal urge to be filled and _full_ , much like the soil, of life and the quickening of breath under his own heartbeat. Keith thought of children when Shiro’s knot finally bloomed in him, releasing seed deeply inside of him, in rhythmic pumping, little by little.

“More,” Keith asked then, clawing at the dry wood of the shell he laid in, thighs quivering as he came effortlessly around Shiro’s knot.

“You’re perfect,” Shiro declared, fisting a hand in his hair, come drained from him as the tight sheath around him urged his body to release it, to quench the thirst of a field that needed it.

“Shiro…”

Is he really perfect? Keith doesn’t think he can be. He’ll let Shiro think so, still, as not quite satisfied from his wedding night, he climbs over him. His honeymoon can very well happen under the first breaths of daylight, and Shiro’s cock, as spent as it was the night before, now stands proudly under the linen sheets of their conjugal bed. Keith’s cunt still feels numb from their enthusiastic coupling but there’s barely a hint of pain as he slides down that big cock, enjoying the sensation of fullness it brings him.

Keith brings a hand to his stomach, tracing the bump it makes below his abs. He slowly moves, bracing on his husband’s – _husband!_ – chest for support, mewling and squeaking as the glans drags upon the sensitive nerves inside of him. Shiro fills him up so good, it’s like a piece of him that had been missing and he needs, yearns for his release. Keith thinks of their children, something he’s always wanted, of being full of a new life, innocent, one he’ll never fail and will always provide for, never let down.

Gods, he wants it. Wants everything Shiro promises to give him, wants to give Shiro everything he’ll ever want, even a whim, even the most improper things.

“Fuck, baby,” Shiro says as he wakes, watching his lover atop his cock, loving the sight of the mess he is. Lips open wide, swollen in pleasure as he pants from exertion, cheeks red, nipples hard little pebbles and pussy split in half over his big cock, looking like a stranger next to the delicate little pink slit Shiro devoured on their first time.

“Needed you…” Keith feels shameful now, as if he were doing something wrong.

“It’s okay, baby,” Shiro croons, pulling Keith into a tender kiss, fingers circling his clit to stroke it, just as he knows Keith likes. “Take what you need… I’ll always give it to you. Anything you want, baby. Tell me what you need.”

“More, more – Shiro, Shiro… more,” he’s coming undone and Keith is nearly sobbing, brain feeling a little fried when Shiro speaks to him in that deep baritone, slow and tender, honest and real. Shiro can give him anything – Keith would crave for it regardless of what it is.

Strong hands grip his hips, using the flesh as handles to pull him up, then slam him down. Keith sighs with pleasure, moans going in crescendo as Shiro thrust up and brings him down simultaneously. He kisses his neck, nibbles his collarbone, licks the fresh bond mark, still so sensitive and so new.

Keith comes when Shiro presses his teeth to it. Shiro follows like he’s just activated a switch by accident, knot making Keith's hole bulge from its sheer width. Keith purrs in delight, soft as putty in Shiro’s strong arms, content to be full and linked to his husband in such an intimate way.

Hear says are right. It _is_ somehow addictive, even when not under the throes of potent heat.

Later, he’ll get stares from walking in such a weird way.

But anyone not knowing what they’ve been doing since sundown would have to be an idiot. None of them care about what anyone thinks of them. They set foot outside, aware of the eyes that follow them. Are they gossiping, excited to have a new story to tell and retell until it loses its flavour, like an overly-chewed piece of meat? When will the juicy story be only a dried up old news? Keith wonders. Until he hugs Allura and climbs in Shiro’s cart, crowded with their gifts and his meagre belongings, Keith keeps his head high.

It’s only a week into their month-long journey that Keith feels his own excitement over his new life fade, like the idea of being married and to have disobeyed to the rules of the aristocracy lost its spice for him, too. Now that he’s so far away from everything he‘s ever known, Keith comes to miss Allura, first of all.

Maybe he’ll never see her again. The thought haunts him without him being able to truly explain it to Shiro – he doesn’t want to sound like he regrets this, their union, the life he so yearns and fears at the same time. Leaving everything comes with a grief he didn’t expect, to remember every little nooks and crannies of the _oikos_ , his childhood home, that he might never see again.

“We can visit whenever you’ll like,” Shiro assures him, sweet as always. Whenever can’t be often enough, Keith thinks, like he would be missing something in the village.

Keith understands only when he settles in his new home.

It’s everything he’s dreamed of, big and quiet, in the style of the Empire. Much of the front is a lawn with tall walls, keeping an indoor garden private and intimate within. Behind the garden, is the villa itself, as comfortable as a King could want, with three bedrooms that Shiro makes him visit, keeping their own for the last.

Exhausted, Keith takes place in the conjugal bed, crawling into his side and making himself as small as he can. He’s missing something, someone. It strikes him like lightning, without him being able to tell why the change of scenery makes him so miserable when he should be happier than he’s ever been.

Shiro holds him when he realises he’s crying, pitifully, like a child, with breathless sobs. When he hides in shame and apologises, Shiro doesn’t let him.

“There’s no wrong in crying, sweetheart,” he tells him, covering him with his arms, surrounding him until Keith feels safe to cry as much as he needs to. It feels endless somehow, like he’s broken a bottle of petulant alcohol, like the foam bursts out of the shattered neck like a waterfall.

Keith stares at the door to their bedroom, as if expecting someone to come through it. Watching, waiting. The eternal cycle of his hopes skyrocketing then plummeting. The childish spells of,

  _if I finish this chiton and it’s perfect, he will come back._

_Come back._

_Why did you leave?_

_I needed you. I still need you._

_Please._

_Papa…_

“How is he going to find me now?” Keith asks through tears, staring at Shiro like the Alpha has an answer for him. Like Shiro would find his father and bring Thace back.

Shiro’s heart visibly breaks. Carefully, he pulls him close and rocks Keith, understanding that Keith isn’t as much his spouse now than a scared little boy. One that sat on the porch of his _oikos_ , waiting for a man that isn’t him to come and pick him up, kiss his forehead and pull him close.

“He will Keith.” Shiro hesitates one moment before he adds, resolute, believing every word he says, “If he is – if he can, he’ll find you, wherever you are. He loves you. I can tell from what you told me of him.”

Keith whines, clinging to Shiro with a scared nod. He’ll wait. He’ll always wait.

“I’ll take care of you, in the mean time. He won’t have a complaint to say – you’ll be in the best hands he could… he can wish for.”

 

 

 


	2. act ii

## iv.

 

 

 

Shiro caresses the necklace around his neck, touching the silver chain without being able to keep himself from yearning.

Keith’s offered it to him, just before he left.

Shiro feels like it’s been _years_ , even when he’s been crossing the days in his head, noting each of them in his journal, even when the days’ events are only about as notable as him missing Keith, his embrace… the way Keith laughed, the way he’d tease him for being so damn expressive. It’s only been six months at best but Shiro nonetheless feels like he’s been apart from his husband for longer than they’ve been married.

They married two years ago, and it has been six months.

Parting will only make reuniting all the sweeter, Shiro tells himself, each and every day, traversing the land with the men he’s leading. The war broke out, and Shiro had been asked to take up arms again. Thankfully, by the time he had reached the city-state in need of a lesson, most of the battles had already been fought and won. The Isles had effortlessly conquered. Shiro could have been prouder – he’s merely happy to come back home to his lover.

Some of his soldiers mock him for becoming so smitten and sentimental with an Omega, his wife, at that, but he can’t care. He’s never been overly invested in other Alphas, like his peers would expect a man of his rank to be. Truth be told, Shiro never quite cared about genders. His previous lovers weren’t people he loved as deeply and truthfully as he loves Keith, but amongst them were Betas and Alphas alike.

Omegas, of course, are kept as preciously as the most valuable of gems. There’d been very few occasions for him to bed an Omega before he’d married one. Most of them had the thrill of the danger of being caught and… Shiro can’t say he didn’t like this.

He certainly didn’t like it more than the sex he has now with Keith. The boy’s just perfect in every way and Shiro can’t believe how lucky he was to land on someone so well-matched for him. His mind goes back, almost without him meaning to, to the night just before he’s left.

There was something a little desperate about that night. About the way Keith held so tight to him, like he would never come back, like he would just disappear and vanish out of thin air.

Keith’s fear is not built from nothing. Keith’s father _did_ disappear one day without leaving even the smallest clue behind. Shiro believes he might be dead but it’s not a thing he tells Keith outwardly, preferring to comfort his spouse with a gentler approach, sensing that even though it’s been more than a decade, the boy isn’t ready to think of his once doting parent as forever gone. Shiro won’t comfort him in ideas that will only delay the inevitable heartbreak, but he tries not to encourage him, to be understanding and remind his Omega of how long it’s been…

It hurt to leave for war, of all things, knowing that any reason would have hurt Keith. The boy cried and screamed, kicking and breaking things in his anguish. Shiro stood there, unsure of what to do as Keith weeped without being able to stop, from both fury and despair.

“You can’t leave,” Keith said, sounding both heartbroken and begging, voice shaking on every syllables. _Because you’ll never come back,_ was the unheard plea. Keith clung to his shirt, pulling him tight as if he’d walk out the door, as if it would have been the last time that he would ever see him.

“I have to,” He didn’t want to go. Even less now, when he gathered his sobbing husband in his arms. Keith broke his heart each time he cried like this, hiccupping and wiping his eyes. That little boy that fought against Alfor’s grasp as Thace walked away, willing himself to steel his resolve not to turn around and run back to his only son.

“Please, Shiro.” If only he could have stayed, could have refused. It was his duty as a citizen, not one he considers higher than the vows he took as he married the Omega, but some he must attend, just like the _ecclesia_. “They don’t need you. They can find a hundred men like you, even if they aren’t as renowned soldiers as you.”

“I’ll come back – I promise,” Shiro said then, moving both hands to cover Keith’s wet cheeks. Keith wiped his eyes with the heel of his palms, making Shiro want to draw him in, rock him and never let go of him.  “I’ll always come back to you. No matter what it takes. There’s not a danger in the world that would keep me from going back to you.”

Keith sniffled, wiping at his eyes hard. There was no use arguing – Shiro was set on leaving and the boy apologised for being selfish.

“No, you’re not. You’re worried. Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Shiro told him. If anyone could have difficulty letting his loved ones go to war, it would be Keith. Shiro kissed his forehead, repeating tirelessly that he was loved, that he was worth it all and not even the most fearsome monster, the greatest depth or the tallest height  would be enough to stop him.

And there he is, finally coming back after only a few skirmishes, thanking the gods for his luck. Keith told him he would be sacrificing a lamb to his goddess Selas, to assure him a safe trip and return. A wish-granting barbarian deity... Selas is mostly known in the Empire and the Cities as some sort of witch.  Shiro keeps her in his mind, even though she’s not his goddess – he let Keith keep his own gods when they married, something most Alphas he meets find incredibly improper.

Not that he cares.

He doesn’t need the approval of these Alphas and all he can think of is of Keith, waiting for him at home…

Shiro still recalls fondly how they held each other, on their last night together. He was set to leave the next morning at dawn, to have his weapons ready and his horse saddled. None of them could sleep, tense like a bow ready to fire. Keith asked to be held, one thing led to another and…

“Let me remember you, deep in my heart and deep in my entrails,” Keith requested.

Shiro could only oblige.

They would more often be all teeth, nails and grunts than this tender, gentle passion. Keith’s lips barely ever left his mouth or his skin and Shiro wished he could have breathed the same air, just to never part. Shiro’s hands roamed all over Keith’s soft skin, desperate to touch and to imprint the sensation of it on his fingertips, associating it to the roughness of the pommel of his broadsword, to always think of it each time he’d draw it.

It works – Shiro caresses the leather of the handle, remembering how light and yet strong Keith felt in his arms, holding tight onto his shoulders, like he’d somehow slip away much before the time he should have. Keith didn’t want to let go – Shiro didn’t want to make him.

They made love like they were one being, easily guessing each other’s needs from careful glances. Shiro laid over Keith, settling between his open thighs, easily sliding inside his glistening cunt – he’s sighing at the memory of that tight, pink little hole before he can stop himself. It felt like heaven, silken and burning like a furnace around his cock. Keith’s hands found his ass, pressing him deeper, further.

“Wanna feel you even when you’re gone,” Keith mewled and Shiro nearly came right then, much to his own shame. Keith _would_ and _will_ be the death of him, someday.

It felt good and right. Shiro felt his heart clench at the injustice of them parting, at the shame of leaving his spouse, at the way his greatest fears promised him they would never find each other again. No amount of promises could keep Keith from crying softly as Shiro kissed him, tender, loving.

“I don’t want to leave either,” Shiro deplored.

“Then don’t,” again, Keith begged, hopeful.

Shiro didn’t answer. He still feels bad for it – he couldn’t say anything, nothing he hadn’t said a thousand times. How he had to, it was his duty as a citizen and that he couldn’t derogate to being drafted again, especially not when he had done so much to draw the ire of the other citizens. Marrying a stranger is already seen as an offence – refusing to participate in war could lead to unforeseen consequences.

When he knotted Keith, the young man clung to him like he was a lifeline thrown for him when he was stranded at sea. Shiro held him in return, kissing imaginary patterns all over his forehead.

Shiro nearly came again when Keith announced, “I hope it takes. I hope it takes and you can meet our child when you come back.”

 _Gods_. If Keith truly was about to be the death of him someday, that day seemed like a good one.

It’s almost like Keith did it on purpose, too. Shiro _knows_ it was innocent daydreaming, in the last bone-mellowing whispers of their shared pleasure, but he can’t help but think of them, surrounded by little children, their little ones. Of Keith round and glowing with a new life under his breath , welcoming him home with a heavy stomach, heavy from his own doing. It’s a flattering thought, that his seed would be so potent he would knock up an Omega outside of heat… it’s nearly impossible, a rarely-documented fear.

It’s a better image than Keith polishing his armour for good luck, as Marmora wives do to insure their mates’ safe return from wars.  A better one than Keith, wrapping the necklace he’s still touching around his neck, carved from Selas’ sheaves and meant to keep him safe. It’s his amulet, his talisman, bearing the bright red feathers of a pheasant at the tip.

Shiro keeps it under his pillow at night.

Under his breastplate during the day. 

He’ll be with his love, soon. Soon, he won’t need anything to remember him by, he’ll just have to look up. And there Keith will be.

 

 

 

Like always, Shiro closes the march, walking at the end of the line while the second-in-command, better at navigating around a dense forest, leads the troop amongst the heavy foliage and branches.

It’s a calm spring morning, one he would enjoy spending outside, in the gardens, with a cup of wine and reading a science treaty opened on his lap. It’s a lovely way to learn and pass the time, that is, until he is called by more pressing duties, such as the company of his spouse. Soon. Soon, this will be how his mornings are spent – not stuck between sweaty Alphas and their roughhousing, the relentless teasing and the stench of proximity mixed with the lack of hygiene.

Shiro thinks of his bathroom, of the heated tub he’ll plunge in as soon as he can get his armour off.

Just the thought reminds him of his aching back, of how he’s nearly forgotten the scent of oils and salts he’ll add to the water.

“It’s a camp!” a soldier cries out, pulling him out of his reverie. A camp?

He steps on what he assumes, at first, is a twig when it cracks – albeit, too dry… like…

Under his foot lies the discarded bones of a bird. Shiro looks up, a sinking feeling in his stomach as he sees, hung like garlands of flowers, sun-dried skeletons of various rodents and birds. In front of them stands a hut, just in front of a fire pit, decrepit and full of holes, dirty, and the leather still bearing patches of hair.

A soldier laughs, “S’a weird little place to live.”

He kicks the cauldron off its hooks, making it spills a mixture that stench like a rotting corpse. The others cover their mouths in disgust, a few laughing as another draws his sword to cut through the hut, snapping the dry wood that holds it together in half. A crude bed lies under, dirty and dusty.

Whoever lives here seems like troubles. Shiro doesn’t even want to know what kind of person hangs strings of bones to trees but it… feels ominous. Shiro can feel heaviness on his chest, as if he’s about to wake from a nightmare.

His soldiers laugh.

“Knock it off, guys,” Shiro warns.

The lack of excitement made them rowdy and one even pisses on the blankets, earning the cheers of his comrades.

“You fool!” He tries to keep his voice low, pulling the man away from the dying embers. “Let’s not mess with whoever lives here. Have you not had enough fighting when we were on the battlefield?”

“Don’t be a killjoy, Shiro,” the young Alpha says, rolling his eyes. “Or what, are you scared? Of the crusty old fuck that must live here?”

His hand closes on nothing when the young Alpha’s arm was right into his grasp just seconds earlier – a squeal on the ground draws everyone’s attention, just as a bright pink pig scampers off, just from under the linen of a travel cloak. A murmur of incomprehension runs through the crowd. A man starts running and Shiro takes a step back, watching as he disappears, only to be replaced with a second hog running in panicked circles.

“What in the—”

“Fly, you fools!” Shiro screams, pushing the young Alpha in front of him to start running too. There’s a shadow between the trees, one with glum golden eyes. Shiro sees his doom in them, surrounded by the screams of the scampering swine around his feet. This… must be doing of magic, something Shiro’s always been intrigued by and yet, never quite believed in.

He runs until he can only hear the distant screeches of his once-battalion, turning around to notice behind him, a tiny, frail woman wrapped in dark cloaks, staring at him from under a hood. Her eyes are the same hostile yellow as the he’s seen before. His body stops without him being able to stop it, the frigid sensation of terror seeping through pores of his skin.

The woman seems… older, much older than she looks. With olivine skin and red marks over her cheeks, her appearance is striking, with the snow-white hair curling around her nearly hollow cheekbones.

“You’ve resisted my curses,” she states, voice dry, like it’s coming out of an ancient, dusty book. Like she barely ever uses it. “Unlike these pigs, crossing into my home, you seem…” She stops there, approaching him, as if curiosity got the better of her.

Shiro growls. “Don’t come near me, witch.”

There’s nothing else she can be. Some sort of enchantress, some sort of…

“You’re paralysed with fear!” She laughs, mocking, as she places a hand on his chest and –

There’s a blink.

Right into the fabric of – time? Himself? Shiro can’t tell. Something pops and breaks, something simply ceases and something else begins. The ice of her touch spreads through his nothingness and his existence, and when he screams, another sound comes out of him.

Shiro steps away, desperate to get away from the witch’s painful grasp. He falls over, rolls down like a barrel, cursing as he gets up, only letting out a little yip. He expects to see pink flesh when he looks down, finding only clawed paws where his hands ought to be, dark and wide, burrowing in the tender earth beneath. Shiro tries to make a sound, but only a soft whine comes out of him.

“You…” The witch is intrigued now, attempting to grab him as Shiro flees, staring at her from below, growling softly. Her influence isn’t as inescapable now. “You didn’t – there’s something up with you. Come here. I need to discover how a lowly human like you resisted my curse.”

Shiro bites her when she reaches out. Her blood tastes like ink and pus, flooding his mouth as she screams in pain. Now that she’s distracted, Shiro runs without looking back, paws eating the paces below him. He leaps over a creek, panting as the trees seem to draw closer and closer to him, nearly becoming trapped as two weeping willows crash into one another. The forest truly is the witch’s home.

And he’s trespassed.

He feels like a little mouse stuck between an army of starving cats, hearing her rasps just behind his collarbone, making the fur of his neck stand, the biting frost covering his back.

He’s blinded by the sun as it pours over his eyes, forcing him to run without knowing where he’s going, right into an open field of barley. The golden crops provide shelter from the light. Shiro drops to the ground, panting, feeling like he is burning like an overly-fed furnace. He shakes himself, feeling tiny shards of ice drop from the fur that now covers him.

Birds sing around him, there’s the sound of scurrying bugs and field mice around. His ears catch every noise, his nose leads him to a small sparrow, tweeting as it hops around the plants. Nothing seems to be fearing what hides in the forest, which now looks unnervingly innocent, as if nothing horrifying was hiding in it.

Shiro swallows, staring again at his paws.

He’s… become something else.

Yet he still reasons like a man.

He understands what he’s looking at as he nervously turns to look at himself, swishing the fluffy tail of a canine behind him. A dog? This isn’t what the witch wanted, so much he can tell. She probably wanted to transform him into a pig, just like the men of his squad. Fitting – one of them had acted rudely, so all of them had to be punished.

It still feels gratuitous.

They didn’t do much.

Perhaps she is hungry – nothing much seems to be going in those woods. Shiro tries to ignore the implications of this as much as he can.

Shiro keeps walking, sneaking around the sceneries to keep himself out of sight. Wild dogs are often killed on sight. Shiro doesn’t want to risk his life again today.

A little later, as night starts setting and, in his thirst, he comes across a pond, Shiro finally sees his appearance.

A wolf.

Big, black, terrifying.

 

 

 

## v.

 

 

 

Keith hears news of the City from the workers.

Soldiers are starting to come home. He’s seen a few of them, thankfully without any grievous wounds.

This can only mean Shiro will come back soon. From then on, Keith spends his time as close to the door as possible, sitting on the front of their villa, on the marble porch, staring at the road as he expects his victorious lover to come back any time now.

He sees other battalions, walking in ordered lines along the road that crosses their estate, happy, playful, roughhousing each other like Alphas who have never seen war. Shiro ought to be safe, walking home right now, across the roads the of City-States. Keith yearns for that day; he dreams of it each night, waking up to the deception of having to wait another day.

The servants are as ecstatic as he is, proposing to prepare a feast for their _aristoi_ as soon as he’ll be home. Keith starts planning for it, ordering for the house to be cleaned in its entirety. Everything shines like it’s brand new, every surface is polished to reflect sunlight or visitors. Keith recounts every recipe he’s ever learned, trying to find the perfect one, the one that would please Shiro best, the one that will spell out how much he’s missed him.

Everything is ready to be prepared a week later.

And then a week pass.

And then another.

Soon, the homecoming soldiers become a trickle, then a few little drops, once every few days.

Keith’s hope turns to anguish; deep, black and suffocating. Keith stares at the road endlessly, at first, sitting still like he just needs to focus more on the horizon to will Shiro to appear.

_If I finish this dress today, Shiro will come back for sure._

_If I clean every tile of the house, every little nook, every little cranny, Shiro will be back, just at the door._

It’s not enough to make wishes. Keith starts begging whatever power that’s willing to listen to him, begging Shiro’s god of warfare and power, then his own. There’s nothing else he can do when his days grow emptier, each vacant seat and each lonely night digging a hole into his stomach, where a snake of anguish makes its next.

Has he done something wrong?

Keith can’t tell. Maybe there’s just… something wrong with him.

Maybe that’s why.

He wakes up at night from gruesome nightmares, of Shiro’s severed head delivered to his doorsteps by a cheerful messenger. Of rolling to a warm presence in the bed, only to find himself in the viscous mess of a rotting corpse. Each dream grows more graphic, leaving him freezing, unable to warm himself after such visions. They haunt him during the day, etched behind his eyelids.

Insomnia comes just after. Keith takes to long walks around the estate, looking like a ghost floating across the leagues of Shiro’s property, eyes lost on the horizon. Shiro must be hiding just beneath it.

“C’mon, young master,” a farmer tells him once, leading him back to the villa with compassionate little pats on the back. “Omegas shouldn’t be out like this at night. Your husband would worry himself sick if he were here! He’ll come back – he never stops talking about how much he loves you.”

It only makes it harder.

If Shiro loves him so much, why is he gone?

Maybe it’s Keith who doesn’t love him enough. If he had loved his father enough, if he had loved Shiro enough… they would be here. His father would have given him away in marriage, Shiro would be back and they would be together now.

He sneaks out with more discretion from then on. Keeps himself out of the view of anyone patrolling, enjoying the air of summer, the breeze of night…

It’s when he notices it, in the vineyard.

A great black beast, eyes shimmering in the darkness. Fright freezes him in place for a few seconds the first time. The thing lets out a little whine, sniffling the grass as it slowly inches closer, the wild dog yipping gently. The spell breaks and the Omega stomps the ground in front of him, “Shoo! Go away from here! These grapes aren’t for you!”

The dog whines as it runs off, turning a few times to look behind before it disappears.

Wolves, now…

Maybe he is cursed for real, Keith thinks.

It’s been a moment, now. Nobody hides from him to whispers about Shiro’s passing now. Something must have happened. No one's heard from him, or the soldiers he led to war. They talk about how he must be dead, one of the few. Maybe he’s been captured, sold into slavery. They talk about the gladiators of the Empire, of how they’ll accept any slaves, even from allied cities, from any provenance.

Keith barely sleeps. The nightmares and worry plague him. Nothing seems to work to chase them. He’s always exhausted, eyes heavy and mind sluggish. What can he do? There’s already talks of contacting Shiro’s relatives, so they can take him in. Keith never saw any of them, never even heard of them.

To them, he’s just a barbarian, someone who sullied their name.

Gone are the days of idyll and his lover, the one who promised to come back.

 

 

 

He sees the wolf again, when he walks in the vineyard.

Keith doesn’t chase it.

Maybe it’ll attack, he thinks.

It flees when he steps closer, as if, with its keen smell, the dog could smell his misery. And even it wanted none of it.

 

 

 

Keith dreams of his father, one night.

Of his back turned, the endless road on which Keith could never catch him, running out of breath as his little legs gave out under him.

He wakes in the villa’s garden, an empty wine bottle next to him. He still feels slightly drunk, mind fuzzy like cotton and mouth pasty. He remedies to it with another swig of the bottle, barely shivering at the powerful taste.

When he hears something, Keith whips around, seeing the wolf between the shrubberies, ears drawn back as it guiltily whines. Keith grabs the knife he keeps close, snarling at the old mutt. He hates the way its tail is tucked between its hind legs, like _Keith_ is scaring it.

After Shiro being gone, now there’s a wild animal inside his home?

Their home?

Shiro’s home?

Keith lunges, missing the wolf narrowly. It barks, submissive, pulling away when the Omega manages to grab a handful of its fur. Keith keeps strands of it in his palm. It stays a safe distance now.

“What the fuck do you want?” Keith slurs, backing it against the nearest wall. The torches give its fur a shiny sheen, casting its shadow on the bricks. Its wide, grey eyes bear an emotion that looks strikingly like terror.

He could kill it.

Keith thinks it wouldn’t be so hard, even if the wolf is bigger than what he’d even expect a mountain lion to be. It’s huge – humongous. Keith thinks he could make it a cloak to offer Shiro, knowing his husband would appreciate the glossy, soft fur. He could steal it at every occasions, too. It would be warm.

The idea of their mundane intimacy brings a painful pinprick to his heart.

The wild beast looks at him, crying softly now that it’s stuck between a steel blade and the brick wall. Its big, wet eyes seem to ask for pity, to let it leave. It’s lost. Alone and without anyone. Keith feels understood, without knowing how he can read so well in a stupid mutt’s eyes.

Maybe he’s going crazy. That’s what happens to bereaved spouses. It’s always what happens in the stories, just before the relatives, uncles and nephews seize the belongings of the late Alpha. Keith thinks he’ll be a cautionary tale someday. Maybe he’ll become a myth, a legend. Be careful not to fall in love with your husband, or you might become mad when you lose him.

That’s how Alphas die. At war, gone, disappeared.

All Alphas that he’s known have eventually left.

His father, Alfor, Shiro…

Maybe whoever picks him up will die soon. Keith chuckles at the thought. Being cursed might not be such a weight on him, if it keeps him free.

The wolf’s wet tongue on the palm of his hand brings him back to reality. The gigantic predator looks like an overgrown puppy, looking at him with dewy eyes before it presses its face to his hand, demanding to be caressed.

When his bewilderment passes, Keith shrugs. He has nothing to lose. The wolf’s fur is soft as he threads his fingers through it. It gives a sigh of pleasure, tail dusting the ground behind it. Keith smiles. That’s the nicest way anyone, _anything_ has reacted to him in these last few weeks. The wolf doesn’t pity him, it simply… wants company.

“Sorry about… waving that knife against you, big boy,” Keith says, tiredness showing through each word.

The wolf pushes its head to his hip, as if to tell him his apologies are accepted. Keith scratches its neck, earning its happy groans. His fingers find something into its fur, a chain… with beads, and… Keith kneels, coming face to face with the wolf’s expressive, wide eyes.

At the end of the necklace, his fingers brush on the bright, orange and black feathers of a bird. Keith pulls on the chain, recognising it instantly. It’s – he’s made this. He made it for Shiro, before he left, as a good luck charm, to insure he would come home.

It’s… it’s impossible.

The wolf whines.

Keith looks up to him, finding that striking intelligence in its grey eyes again. Grey… a little like Shiro, a little too much. Keith feels the tears well in his eyes. How is this possible? Could the poor beast have somehow tangled itself in the chain? Did someone put it on him? Why would anyone approach such a big, terrifying wolf for anything but to skin it?

That’s what he’s wanted before.

It whines. Licks his face with more insistent noises, nosing at Keith’s bond mark. Is he growing mad? Keith knows this is impossible, Shiro… can’t be a wolf.

If he finds the mark of teeth on its neck, the scar of uncannily human-like jaws...

There it is, on its collarbone, the round, matching bite mark.

“Shiro?” Keith asks, desperate. He can’t believe this – it’s… this isn’t something that’s happening. “No… it’s impossible.”

But the wolf yips and licks his face, excited and wagging its tail, rubbing against him. Keith knows he’s going crazy, crazy with loss. There’s legends amongst the Marmorites, that those Selas protects would become wolves to keep her children safe, that she would make Alphas into dangerous, intelligent beasts to protect her sanctuaries. Keith thinks of the lamb, under the full moon – he’s killed it with the same knife, begging Selas to keep Shiro safe, to bring him back to him.

“Thank you,” Keith whispers fervently, wrapping his arms around the wolf’s neck to pull him close, crying into his soft fur.

Shiro – it has to be Shiro, it has to be him – just rubs his nose against his shoulder, wet and cold, but just like he would do as a man. Like this, he can’t hold him close but… Keith thinks this isn’t so bad. He’s warm, like a furnace into his arms, gentle and kind like he always was.

Keith grips Shiro's dark coat, smearing snot all over him. Relief makes him sob like a little boy, unable to let go, needing to hold on to his husband’s changed body. It doesn’t matter what he is, it doesn’t matter… it only matters that Shiro is back, that he’s with him, that he hasn’t left. That he’s not cursed, he’s not alone, Shiro didn’t leave him.

It takes him a moment to stop crying, drained and exhausted from the relief of being reunited with his mate. Shiro, even as a wolf, is understanding and licks his tears, nosing at his jaw. Keith even manages to giggle – if it’s Shiro, they’ll find a way. He just needs him there, everything else is secondary, everything else can be solved if his mate is here.

“How… how did it happen?” A second later, Keith remembers Shiro can’t speak.

The Alpha looks at him with guilty eyes, knowing he can’t use his mouth to talk. Shiro butts his head against his chest. So, this will be a game of trial and errors… Keith doesn’t mind. He’ll do anything it takes to make Shiro human again.

So… he needs simple questions. Nothing that needs more than negative or affirmative.

There’s… not a thousand ways this could happen. Keith fidgets – he feels guilty to know so much and never have told Shiro. It’s like his husband can smell it, tilting his head as he looks at him, silently asking questions.

_What’s wrong, baby?_

Oh, so much is wrong.

“Did… someone do this to you?”

Shiro nods – it’s slow, deliberate.

There’s a way. Keith knows, and he knows someone who can help him – Allura will know what to do. She’s always known so much more than him. After marrying, that should all be behind him but… Keith knows.

“It was a witch, uh?”

Shiro slow blinks, then makes a noise that seems to be the wolf equivalent of _I beg your pardon, but by the Gods how do you know this?_

Keith feels the beat of a headache behind his temples. Damn all the alcohol he’s ingested. It doesn’t ease the guilt.

“Shiro, I’m sorry,” he assures. “I… we’ll talk about this once this is over. We… can’t have this conversation right now.” It would be a one-sided monologue. Shiro will have a thousand questions and it isn’t fair to dump this on Shiro when he’s like this. “I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

One problem at a time.

“We have to go right now,” Keith says hurriedly, attempting to stand up, only to be pulled back down by Shiro. The questioning eyes of the wolf land on him, quickly becoming worried at his tired appearance.

He lands on his ass, staring at the Alpha as Shiro lies down in their cosy, pillows-filled belvedere, scratching the pillows with his paws. Keith stares, unsure if Shiro understands the urgency of the situation… The wolf looks up to the full moon, yawning as if he’s tired, looking at Keith again.

“You… want to sleep before?”

Keith takes Shiro’s growl as an affirmative.

It’s still… not a good idea. Shiro never had to subtract himself from the watchful eyes of his entourage. He’s an Alpha, he could always do just about anything he wants.

“We can sleep outside,” Keith says firmly. “We won’t be able to leave when the day breaks – there’ll be people on the estate. They’re asleep, now.”

Shiro seems to consider it, groaning as he looks at his mate. Eventually, the wolf relents, standing up to follow him.

“I’ll get everything we need. Wait for me.”

It only takes a few minutes for Keith to prepare a bag. He doesn’t have too much things – some clothes to change into, a warm travelling cloak. With a gourd and a pair of robust boots, some fruits at the end of his bag, Keith thinks he’ll be good for a few days. As for anything else, he’ll improvise on the road.

Shiro seems restless, pacing around him.

“Come on, big boy,” Keith reassures him, petting his neck. “You don’t have to worry about me. You’re with me, aren’t you? I’m sure my good boy will protect me from any danger.” Keith feels something slaps against his thigh. “Is your… tail wagging?”

He’s never heard a dog’s growl sounds so _irritated_.

It’s adorable. It’s hard to believe how a nearly two hundred pounds predator can sound so cute.

But again, it’s Shiro.

And Keith’s always found his husband incredibly endearing. And… even like this, Shiro is easy to read, just like an open-book.

Maybe he really is going crazy, but it comforts him. This really is Shiro. His Shiro, his mate. The only one he’ll ever love.

 

 

 

Keith wakes up the next morning to the singing of small birds. The sun’s light seeps through the heavy foliage of trees over them, he’s laying on a bed of moss, with Shiro’s _chlamys_ to cover him. For a pillow, just under his ear, there’s the steady, peaceful breaths of the giant wolf.

Keith takes an instant to enjoy Shiro’s presence, arms wrapped around his collar, listening to his heartbeat.

He should be scared, setting off in the unknown, looking like an Omega without a mate, vulnerable and defenceless, an easy prey… but with Shiro next to him, Keith knows he couldn’t be safer anywhere else.

He can stay like this a moment longer, Keith decides. He thought he had lost this – he savours it, like the priceless sensation it is, to be against the one he loves the most, cherished and warm, lulled back to sleep by Shiro’s gentle snoring.

 

 

 

vi **.**

 

 

 

When they first married, Keith told Shiro that he’s always yearned for adventure. His most fond memories were the journeys with his father from the Marmoras to Alfor’s village. Keith was fascinated with each and every little place they had crossed, each monument, the endless road ahead of them. Most of all, he was thrilled to spend time with his father alone, without anyone to take his hero’s attention away from him.

Thace obliged happily, buying his son souvenirs in the Cities they crossed. Keith loved the doll they picked in Attique, the fine cloths from Erythrea… Keith loved to see the sceneries change, from the mountains of the north to the beaches of the south, the flatness of the plains and the hills around the fast-paced rivers.

Of course, that adventure ended on a less than happy note. With Keith rushing behind Thace as he left, only to be caught by Alfor before the boy could catch up with him.

Shiro promised to take him on an adventure then.

“Going to the Isles will already be an adventure,” Keith said, then, amused at Shiro’s romantic declarations.

Shiro had laughed, “I mean a real adventure. With just you and me, seeing something we’ve both never seen. There’s so many places to see, so much in the world even I haven’t seen.”

They talked about where they wanted to go in great lengths. They spoke of holidays, to go see things they had already seen. Returning to Allura’s village for her soon-to-be wedding with an Omega named Lance that she lengthily spoke about in multiple letters. Keith thought he sounded like a tool. Shiro thought he sounded like a funny person. They agreed to disagree – what mattered was that Allura was happy.

For adventures, it was harder to find places Shiro had never seen that were close enough. The man was a seasoned adventurer and Keith wanted to feel the wonder of discovery with his lover and not the stare of his husband, boring into his neck, as the man monitored the smallest change in his expression to make sure Keith loved the place as much as he had the first time.

Keith hated to feel pressure, even the pressure to like something he was sure he’d love.

As they lie there, in the clearing, Shiro guesses… this could count as an adventure?

He wants to take this positively, even when the thought of staying a wolf forever haunts him. There’s no good side to their predicament and Shiro thinks their relationship would be vulgar if he was to… stay like this.

He spent _six months_ yearning for Keith’s touch and now that he has it, Shiro can’t enjoy it to the fullest. When he dreamed about coming home, Shiro imagined falling asleep into Keith’s arms, using his chest as a pillow, hearing his heart, enjoying his sweet scent… and well, that’s what happened. But he’s a wolf.

And now, Shiro doesn’t know what else to do beside follow his mate blindly as he walks through the forest. It’s… not something he’s proud of, especially when he can’t warn Keith of the danger. The forest itself seems to be the witch’s territory but the air… is different. Shiro wonders if she’s gone. It smells different too, like they’re not at all in the same forest.

Still, it’s the same pines, the same birch trees.

Shiro can still smell a faint stench.

It’s been weeks. Perhaps has the witch calmed down, maybe Keith can explain what happened to her. Maybe she’ll pity him even, stuck in this body when he has a mate…

Ah.

No.

This is a bad idea.

Even crossing the forest, even if it's to go that Keith says will help, that makes a shiver run across his back, raising the fur on his spine.

But Shiro can’t think of any other solution. How else could he tell his lover that he accidentally walked through a witch’s lair, angered her and that she transformed him into a wolf as a revenge? That magic is not only a children’s tale, that their cynicism was mistaken? There’s more out there, something that can change everything about them, about anyone.

Keith probably understands that already. He’s the one following his mate, transformed into a wolf, now smelling the carpet of dead leaves of the forest to try to find a way to tell him just _how_ he became this way.

Something bothers him, still. Keith is much too calm and takes this with superb poise, as if he already knew that there are things that defy logic in the world. All of the questions Shiro has will remain unanswered until he can speak again.

Shiro trusts Keith with his life, still. So, he will follow him, without any question. Whatever Keith’s secrets are and whatever the motives of hiding them are, Shiro knows his mate loves him, trusts him too…

Shiro’s enraptured with Keith’s profile. He is beautiful, in the dim light of the forest, with his cute little nose and his long lashes, especially when they fan over his rosy cheeks as he sleeps… Gods, Shiro could just spend his life watching him. He’s missed his presence, the comfortable nature to their silence, Keith’s sarcasm and his annoyed little frown when something doesn’t work the way he wants.

Keith is impressively bad at lighting fires at first, as if he’s forgotten how to turn two stones into a lighter. Shiro earns a warning glare when he giggles the first night. To make up, Shiro hunts for a pheasant, bringing back the bird as a trophy between his maws, trotting to the Omega to push it toward his knees.

Keith knows every of his weaknesses.

Even now.

Praises have always been something Shiro yearned for but now? It’s what he _lives_ for. It’s embarrassing how Keith can make his tail wag with the simplest kind words, the “good boy” always insuring Shiro’s body shakes with excitement. Keith teases him then, pulling his big face towards his to kiss his wet nose.

He’s always lived to make Keith happy. It feels almost even greater now, to see Keith’s approval, to earn it. Shiro _wants_ the scratches behind his ears, he _needs_ the kisses to his muzzle, the coos and the loving hugs.

“What a handsome boy,” Keith tells him whenever he can, making Shiro’s ears perk up at his voice.

Dammit. Keith’s effect on him is as strong as ever and this body is much too honest, displaying all of his emotions as if he were an open book.

 

 

 

  The boy seems to find it on his own, while Shiro wants to avoid it, staying outside the garlands of rodents with a whine of fear as Keith steps in, fearless as ever.

“It’s alright, Shiro,” Keith assures him, moments later. “The witch’s gone. I don’t feel her here anymore… she left this place.”

Much of what seemed to be her belongings are indeed missing from the scene. The cauldron, the blankets, multiple carcasses that had been laying around before, tiny constructions that Shiro didn't understand.

How can Keith feel this?

Shiro looks up to him. Keith adverts his gaze when he meets Shiro’s.

“I swear, I’ll tell you.”

Just another question to add to a growing list of mysteries.

 

 

 

Going to Allura’s village seems to be Keith’s newest option. Shiro can’t ask questions and Keith gives only scarce explanations, stating simply that his old friend would know what to do.

Without other options Shiro had to follow, wondering what Allura would know about witches and how to make him human again.

Sure – Allura is a scholar in many subjects, knows a vast number of things about a wide array of disciplines, but what does she know about magic? Shiro never saw her display any sort of interest in it. It’s only another question, one he guesses he will have answers to as soon as he is human again. Only then, he’ll be able to ask Keith to tell him everything.

It’s quite the journey, especially on foot. Keith is a fit young Omega and Shiro surprises himself with his own stamina. Wolves can travel great distances – it’s an advantage, Shiro thinks, wishing nonetheless that Keith would take more rest. He can see him massaging his sore soles, dip them in the chilly water of any streams they see to reduce the pain of walking so much.

Keith never once complains. He’s determined, driven by one goal that he won’t accept not to reach.

Shiro didn’t think he could love Keith more. And yet – he does, smitten by his lover’s never-bending will.

They reach a tiny village nearly a week after leaving their villa, a tiny hamlet nested between two hills with a river running its course in the middle. It’s unremarkable, with busy farmers milling about around it, like an army of ants tending to a large barley field. A house smells of delicious bread, Shiro salivates at the idea of the warm crumb, the crunchiness of the crust…

The wolf clings to Keith’s side, warding off with his intimidating presence anyone that could think of coming closer. Shiro knows he’s much bigger than a regular wolf, his head nearly reaching Keith’s chest. The villagers see a noble Omega alone, yes, but one accompanied by a dangerous beast, one that looks them right in the eyes to dare them to approach.

One Alpha, who smells like a good-natured man, approaches carefully, keeping an eye on the Omega’s pet. “Uh… excuse me, but are you alone? It’s dangerous to travel without your mate, don’t ya know, dear?”

It sounds patronising. Shiro can smell Keith’s annoyance from a mile, and he nosed his husband’s side to keep him from lashing out. A well-intentioned Alpha would definitely find a poor, lost Oméga's Alpha's family and send him with them – Shiro refuses to think of how terribly his siblings would treat his mate. They did not even deserve to lay a single eye on Keith.

Keith reacts quicker than Shiro can anticipate and he watches, dumbfounded, as Keith pulls the most convincing show of crocodile tears, playing the role of a meek, docile Omega, “I know! But my mate was hurt at war and, and I need to go to the north, so I can help him recover. I love him so much…”

The Alpha freezes. Most Alphas don’t have any ideas what to do with tears. He reaches to touch Keith, pulling his hand away when Shiro bares his needle-sharp teeth.

“He-hey… didn’t mean to upset ya, sweetie. I uh… you’ve got that… big fella of yours there uh?” he tries, wringing his hands as he looks around, as if trying to assess what the quickest escape route is. The man doesn’t seem as worried about the sharp-toothed, gigantic dog than about the crying Omega that accompanies it.

“Oh, yes!” Keith says, drying the fake tears with a wide smile. “Good old Brutus  is always there to protect me! My mate gave him to me to keep me company and make sure I’m always safe. He’s the best boy there is.”

Shiro is a little conflicted. On one hand, he praises Keith’s quick wits and his rapid reaction.

On the other hand… he’s still a little mad about his tail wagging at the praises and how he can’t will it to _stop_. Worst of all: Keith’s satisfied expression. Oh, he’s messing with him.

 _The little_ _shit_.

“That’s good, sweetheart, um…” The Alpha looks at Shiro, as if gauging how safe that Omega could be. Shiro growls lightly, staring into the man’s eyes, warning him to back off.

_He’s safe. Won’t let anything happen to him. Now go away._

 

 

 

Even now that they’re together again, Shiro can’t help but miss all the little things they did, as a couple.

Shiro misses the feeling of Keith’s long hair fanning out on his chest, he misses waking up in the morning to the sight of his beautiful spouse, peacefully sleeping, seeking the warmth of his body. Keith can be distant during the day, but during night, the boy is a leech, glued to his side, his back, his body…

It’s the same now – albeit, a little different. Keith uses him as a pillow and heat source, much like a child would with an over-sized stuffed animal.

It’s nice, too. He still wishes he could thread his fingers through Keith’s silky hair, drag his fingertips across his spine, brush his thumb over the hollow of Keith's hipbones. Keith’s presence makes him miss the smallest details he didn’t even notice himself doing as a man, reminds him of how different this body is.

Sometimes, Shiro dares a tiny flick on his tongue on Keith’s cheek, or his nose… it always makes his husband giggle. Shiro finds the gesture too innocent, too platonic for something spouses should be doing. Nuzzling is also wet and cold, tender but doesn’t show the extent of his passion.

There’s just no way they can kiss now. He doesn’t have lips. His tongue is also much different, long and even wetter.

His new body reacts in different ways, too. If his mind is intact, some of his reactions are entirely canine. If Shiro notices early on that _praises_ make him even happier than they once did, how his body will tell his feelings with great sincerity, emotions are also stronger. Shiro prided himself in being a man who kept himself under control, with his feelings in check, and now the slightest sentiment will be displayed, broadcasted even.

Keith’s always been good at reading him. Now it’s entirely effortless.

And Keith… gods, his lover.

Shiro dreamed of finding him again when he was at war, of bedding him, bringing him to their comfortable mattress and mount him, promising him children… He feels robbed of that, of his passionate reunion with his lover. Of the tender kisses they would’ve shared, of how they’d wish to share the same breath, of peppering bruises all over his neck, to mark his ownership again, to chase any foreign smell from his skin.

If he imagines kissing Keith now, it feels _vulgar_.

How could Keith want to kiss a wolf?

He’s kissed his nose multiple times. Shiro hopes Keith doesn’t see him too much as a pet – they’re still spouses, after all. He doesn’t want to be seen as lesser, even now. Even if his… less-than-innocent feelings for Keith make him feel perverse and wrong, as if thinking of his wife in such a body would be improper.

Keith is his _husband_ but Shiro feels guilt when he wakes up erect, like a pitiful teenager. Keith’s rolled off of him during the night, wrapped in his cloak and blanket in the most adorable bundle, face relaxed in peaceful slumber. Shiro’s heart throbs at that view, his leaking, shiny red cock only feeling more vulgar when he looks at his lover.

It’s like he can’t feel attracted to him.

Not now, not until he’s a man again, with a normal prick.

It’s… still big, Shiro notices, fully drawn out of its sheath, the knot still deflated, big and wide. His cock looks the same length, with a different type of skin, flushed and leaking at the tip. Shiro can tell that it’s different from a regular mutt’s prick, bigger and thicker.

Careful, Shiro pulls himself up, padding stealthily across the leaves-carpeted floor of the picturesque oasis of trees they took refuge in last night. This erection should pass on its own. Shiro whines, pitiful, shameful, resisting the urge to lick at his own cock, like a blister he’d want to heal.

“Shiro?”

Dammit. He should have known.

Keith’s sleep is as light as a feather. The smallest noise will wake him up. Shiro tried to flee their bed before and the Omega always woke up to scold him.

“Is something wrong?” Keith’s voice sounds… worried? “Where are you going?”

Shiro’s heart breaks. Does Keith think he’s leaving? Leaving him again? The wolf whines, forgetting about his erection as he rolls to his back, tail between his hind legs.

“Oh.” Keith’s eyes widen as he sees Shiro's dick, hard and smearing clear come on his belly. Shiro’s ears flatten against his skull. When Keith pets his chest, Shiro hurries to lick his palm, submissive and meek.

“Oh, Shiro,” Keith laughs, now. “Are you shy about that? Shy about things I’ve already seen a thousand times before?”

Shiro’s tail starts dusting the ground, timidly, tentatively. _Sorry, baby. I might be a little_.

“You don’t have to worry about anything.” Keith places a kiss on his thin, wet lips, just at the tip of his muzzle. Shiro nearly creams himself right then, heart beating frantically in his chest. He darts his tongue out to lick Keith’s lips, once, twice – the third time, Keith’s tongue finds his as it comes out his mouth.

“Such a handsome puppy,” Keith drawls, peppering kisses on his muzzle. Shiro cries, wishing he could kiss his lover for real, kiss him as a man, with his hands on his cheeks, lift him up to devour his mouth.

“Kiss me, big boy,” It’s a demand. One Shiro must oblige, like the obedient puppy he is, long tongue finding his lover’s wilful, hungry mouth to lick into it. It’s an awkward kiss, devoid of any skills but filled with enthusiasm and drool. Keith makes noises of happiness, moaning and smelling of arousal, strong, sugary, like Shiro’s just shoved his nose in a sheaf of flowers. Keith answers his licks with as much desire, leaning over the wolf’s body, half-covering it with his own.

Keith’s expert fingers wrap around his cock, then. Shiro grunts – the skin is much more sensitive than a human’s, making sparks come out of everywhere those soft, delicate hands touch him.

_Yes, yes, yes…_

He pants, tongue lolling out of his maws as he thrusts up, feeling his knot swell into Keith’s palm.

“Big boy… you’re so big. Such a big boy, and a good one, to… come for me, baby.”

Shiro only needs that.

He releases all over his own tummy, barking in pleasure as Keith squeezes his sensitive knot.

Shiro looks up just in time to see Keith licking his fingers clean of come, indigo eyes bearing right into his.

That boy will be the death of him.

 

 

 


	3. act iii

## vii.

 

 

 

Keith wakes up to the sensation of suffocating, too warm, sweaty and dishevelled. He’s groggy, mind frazzled, thighs wet… it takes him a moment to understand where he is. He’s under his cloak, the blanket sticking to his back from how terribly he’s sweating.

He pulls the blanket away. He’s blinded by the sun at first but when he manages to open his eyes Keith sees the big, furry head of a wolf between his thighs, its long, swift tongue buried into the folds of his pussy. The spongy nose has warmed up from prolonged contact with his heated flesh, pushed into his clit with gentle rubs. The texture makes Keith writhes, moaning as the confusion finally registers as pleasure.

“Oh, fuck,” he growls, petting Shiro’s ears with a sigh of bliss. “Such a good boy. Eat me up good, baby. Gimme… gimme all you got…”

Shiro happily renews his efforts, rapidly thrusting his tongue against his peaking clit, hard like a pebble from the wolf’s enthusiastic mouth. Keith loves the sensation of Shiro’s sharp fangs brushing against his lips, dangerous even when he only brings him pleasure.

He’s missed this.

Shiro’s always been amazing at oral and Keith had mourned the sensation of lazy mornings, buried in the softness of their pillows, with Shiro’s fervent mouth against his slit, his hands holding him down as he took his time, discovering each little folds of flesh, each little crevices of his cunt. Keith sometimes cried from over-stimulation, unable to thrust up into that heavenly warmth, begging Shiro to let him come.

Shiro grinned then, the asshole. He knew exactly the effect he had on Keith and he loved it.

Keith tries pushing up, to meet Shiro’s delightfully long tongue, to push it further into his cunt. Shiro won’t let him – the wolf pushes him down, one heavy paw on his hip to keep him down, slowing down his ministrations with a decidedly playful glint in his silver eyes. The pads of his toes are rough, his claws sharp and dangerous. Keith can’t believe how aroused the danger of a _wolf_ makes him, meek and submissive under the powerful beast above him.

“You fuck— _ah!_ —er!” Keith can’t keep his voice down, pitifully wriggling his hips, trying to get more of that slick, smooth tongue, drawing fire everywhere it touches. “Please, please… Shiro, baby…”

Shiro’s growls reverberate into his flesh. Keith sighs, needy, caressing the wolf’s head and neck.

“Please… M’need you… need you so bad… make me come, baby…”

Orders seem to have a greater effect on Shiro than before. Asking renews the wolf’s eagerness. Shiro knows exactly how Keith likes to be eaten out, every little thing that makes him melt. Shiro’s tongue fucks him, hard and fast, going as deep as he can. Keith sobs in joy.

“Good – good boy, you’re such a good…”

Keith never gets to finish the sentence. He comes, squirting all over Shiro’s snout, covering him with juices. The wolf licks them slowly, not wanting a single drop of the delicious nectar to go to waste, staring at his Omega with eyes hot as embers, cock proudly standing under his stomach.

Keith looks at it, biting his lower lips. He wants it – he doesn’t care about the taboo. That cock looks big, it would fill him up just like Shiro does and he parts his legs a little wider, parting his pussy lips with his index and middle finger.

“Baby?” he calls, lips flushed from arousal, pouting, asking for more. It’s nothing they haven’t done.

Shiro draws his tail between his legs, ears flattening. He whines.

No, not yet. Keith can respect that.

“Alright, then. Come here, big boy. I’ll take care of you.”

 

 

 

Keith is taking this far too well. Shiro can’t chase the picture of Keith, his hair a mess and his thighs dewy with his own juices and his saliva, lips parted, red and inviting, pussy still pulsing with his heartbeat. Like taking a wolf inside of him was no big deal.

Shiro’s always known Keith didn’t care about what society thought. The extent of _how much_ amazes him. Who could have thought that Keith wouldn’t even blink an eye at the thought of masturbating a wolf? That he wouldn’t even be phased by a wolf eating him out? Shiro hadn’t thought this could be possible. Surely, anyone would be quite weirded out by their lover becoming a wolf and then entering a sexual relationship with it.

Bestiality is always frowned upon, in every societies Shiro’s had the pleasure of living amongst. Perhaps, beside… Shiro heard stories of the Marmoras, once, of how Selas would transform great warriors into wolves, to protect her children. For Marmorites, Selas is the mother of all, of the stars in the sky. Those warriors were once men, who, by their war prowess, earned to become a fearsome beast.

Shiro wonders if it’s because of her that, rather than to have become a pig, he was changed into something else, something noble. Keith sacrificed a lamb to _protect_ him, to Selas, a deity associated with wolves… The coincidence is just too much to ignore.

There’s so many questions that haunt him and no way to ask them. Keith catches his inquisitive gazes sometimes. He looks guilty then, looks away like he’s done something wrong, apologises even, sometimes, more and more often. Shiro tries to reassure him that he doesn’t blame him for keeping anything away from him, even though Shiro can’t lie about being a little hurt.

He understands, still.

“I swear, I’ll tell you everything once we found a way to turn you back,” Keith promises. Shiro believes him – Keith’s always kept his promises. They’ll talk, once they can both speak, once they can have a real conversation. It’s alright. Shiro can’t be mad at his adorable wife, the one he loves more than anything and anyone he’s ever thought he could love.

They reach Allura’s house at night. The village is quiet, lit by only a few torches, entirely still under the moonlit night.

Before Keith can even knock, Allura pulls the door open, staring at Keith with her strikingly blue eyes.

Shiro notices her pink crescents on her cheeks, the milky white of her hair against her dark skin. The witch – she looked like her, different but surprisingly similar. She looks at him, staring into his eyes, then back to Keith.

“I knew you’d come here,” she whispers, stepping aside to let them in. “Be quiet – Lance is sleeping. I don’t think he’ll take well to see a wolf inside our home, even if it’s you, Shiro.”

How does she…

“Keith will tell you in time. He promised he would.” Allura looks at Keith pointedly, as if she thought he’d have in the year and a half they’ve been married.

Keith rolls his eyes and glares at his old friend. “Whatever you think, Allura. I thought this life was behind me. You never wanted me to go there.”

Go where?

“Well, it’s what your father wanted. Didn’t want you to be too young when it happened. But then – you married an outsider and well… I thought you’d leave this all behind.”

Leave what behind? Shiro whimpers, nosing Keith’s palm. Keith pulls it out of his reach, watching at his mate guiltily. “Sorry, Shiro. I just… there was never a good time. I didn’t think… you would think me crazy for this, or that you would judge me but… I was scared.” There’s no reason to be scared, Shiro tries to convey, laying his head in Keith’s lap when Allura brings them to the living room, letting out soft, gentle noises to reassure him. Keith turns to Allura when she sits to his left, “I wanted to. I never… really believed in all that.”

Allura sighs but her smell gives away how she understands Keith. “You didn’t see as much as I did. As much as my father did… we kept you away from this. It wasn’t our place to show you. Father… he wanted to, before he died. And before you left… I was about to show you.”

“Whatever,” Keith says. “This… is always bad news. See what happened to Shiro? It can only be… a witch.”

“Some witches have bad intentions and even worse powers.” Allura groans, leaning into the cushions around her. “Shiro… definitely stumbled on one.”

She touches him, finding the pheasant’s feathers collar around his neck and smiles fondly at the sight. “You remembered this protection charm?”

Keith laughs, nervously. “Vaguely. I didn’t – I didn’t think anything would work for real. It just… reassured me, to have something to do. I couldn’t just stay still, I needed… I had a bad feeling.”

Keith pets him slowly, thumb going up and down on his fluffy ear. Shiro closes his eyes, melting into his husband’s gentle touches.

“I still… I still need to do something,” Keith sounded like he was begging, turning to Allura with desperate eyes. “You… you know so much more than me. Please – tell me there’s a way to make Shiro human again. They… they were talking of sending me live with Shiro’s Alpha siblings. It’s… he’s never told me about them.”

Shiro can’t be mad at Keith when the boy looks at him, as confused as Shiro looked up to him before. The questions have a few answers but many more are rising. So, Keith knows about magic. Allura knows about it too. How does Keith know? How do they know? How could he tell this was the doing of a witch? How did Keith know how to make a protection charm? Shiro thought it was a simple gift, something for luck, without anything more behind it. Now, he learns there’s something magical about it, that Keith is hiding so much more.

And yet, he too, had been hiding things from Keith. He can’t be mad. He’ll talk – he promises himself he will, as soon as he regains his voice.

“Shiro… he doesn’t get along with his family. He’s… the rebel of the party, you could say.” Allura gives him a comforting smile, reaching to scratch the other Alpha’s chin. Shiro melts into the touches, tail swishing back and forth behind him. “They don’t matter to him. He doesn’t consider them like family. To him, only you and your children will become that. Whoever he was born with doesn’t matter anymore.”

Keith nods, understanding, leaning down to kiss Shiro’s nose. The wolf licks his chin, apologetic, yearning for his mate’s forgiveness. “I understand,” Keith tells him, taking his head between his hands. “I won’t have to go. We’ll find a way to get you back, Shiro. I love you – nothing’s gonna stop me. I promise.”

He presses their foreheads together. Shiro closes his eyes. He’s always felt a greater connection with Keith, like some sort of… deeper bond. He feels closer to him – in this instant, Shiro feels like he understands his lover’s emotional turmoil, the guilt of never telling him about so many things, the determination of recovering his mate like he once was.

Allura lets them have a little moment before she speaks up again, “There’s many ways. The easiest would be… well, convincing the witch to break the spell.”

“She left,” Keith says hurriedly. “Don’t think she will. She seemed like a real piece of work. Her home was… filled with corpses of animals. She… was probably a bad witch.”

The Alpha pinches the bridge of her nose. “Alright. We’ll just… find something else.”

“What about… the wishing well? In Attique? My father brought me there.”

“Really? That’s superstition, Keith,” Allura says, making Keith grunt in annoyance. “The groves of Athena? They say that… No – there’s no way you can travel so far away.”

“Those are in the Empire, now. The _limes_ are under heavier and heavier protection – the barbarians are starting to pierce through them, now.” Keith seems to think for a moment.

The conversation devolves into obscure legends, mythical magicians and enchanted artefacts. Most of them are eliminated on the spot, for being too far away or too difficult to find. Horus’ eye, which Allura says could have been used to ask a favour to the exotic god, hasn’t been heard of in many years. They make a cross on it.

Magnus’ staff used to belong to a powerful warlock. Allura thinks it would be too difficult to use, too unpredictable in the effects.

Keith rejects the idea of seeking the spirits of many places. Shiro can’t even tell how any of them are written, not recognizing the names. They must be Marmora legends, something Allura’s and Keith's fathers told them about.

After a long conversation, both seem exhausted before…

“There’s Selas’ fountain,” Keith says, hesitating, like he’s thought of it for a moment but didn’t want to use it as an option. He even sounds resigned. “She… will grant the wishes of those who come to her, those who can see the fountain.”

Allura nods, looking at Keith, then Shiro. She understands Keith’s hesitance, keeping the secret with her as she agrees. “That’s… a little far away but… the water will purify anyone who enters it.”

Keith stays silent, lost in his own thoughts. Allura places a hand on his shoulder, looking at her friend with empathy, as if this was something Keith wanted to avoid.

“I…” Keith looks at Shiro, shaking his head to chase his gloomy behaviour. “We’ll go there. That’s… our best option. I think… this is because of Selas, that all this happened.”

Keith stops, looking at the floor, a guilty smell wafting off of him. Shiro noses his knee, looking up to him with big, puppy eyes.

_It’s alright, sweetheart. Whatever you’re not telling me. I’ll love you anyway._

The boy smiles, petting the back of his head. “I’ll tell you everything on the way back. I swear.”

 

 

 

Allura lets them sleep in the garden. Keith curls up next to Shiro, enjoying the mellow pillows she gave to him as well as multiple, thicker blankets. Shiro rolls into a ball around his husband, keeping him warm with his big body, waking up to his lover squeezing handfuls of his fur during his sleep.

Cute.

Shiro loves him even more each time he sees him sleep, comfortable and sweet, peaceful, away from anything that digs lines in his features.

They meet Lance in the morning. Keith and he _hate_ each other on sight, just like Keith said he would. He’s a tool, he whispers to Shiro

“I’m just glad we’re leaving soon,” he confesses, even when he promised Allura he would come back once everything would be over. Lance seems to be terrified of the wolf and Keith seems a little sad to not be able to cause such fright in him in the future.

Allura gives them food and a new travel cloak, some more blankets and a larger bag. Lance even quickly sews a bag that Shiro can wear on his back, a little like the saddle of a horse.

“If he were any bigger, you could ride him,” Lance tries to joke, to Keith annoyance.

Riding. Shiro isn’t sure why his brain rushes to such a thought, but he’s glad that only Keith can tell what he thinks with precision.

“Be safe out there,” Allura tells Keith, pulling him into a hug and kissing his cheeks.

“I’m not alone.” Keith rubs Shiro’s shoulders with a smile.

Allura turns to Shiro, then, “Well, keep him safe, Shiro. Make sure he comes back in one piece – same for you.”

_That’s always been the plan._

He won’t let anyone lay a finger on Keith. That, he swears on his own life. Keith’s safety is his priority – it’s been this way since they married, and it will never change. They leave through an eastern road, with Keith turning back multiple times to look behind, prompting Shiro to gently headbutt him.

He barks then, starting to run.

“Oh yeah?” Keith asks, accepting the challenge as he starts to dash behind him, laughing at his lover’s antics.

Maybe this trip isn’t so bad, after all.

 

 

 

The first two days pass in a blur. Keith knows the way from a map Allura gave him, opening it for Shiro to read for him. The wolf leads the way confidently, recognising the roads on the map.

It’s only showing them the general area where the fountain is supposed to be. It only appears to Selas’ children but Shiro has always interpreted that line as the goddess’ offspring being… well, all humans, all of the Marmoras. Legends are always cryptic. He’s sure Keith can go there.

Maybe it just means that it’s hard to find, too.

Shiro doesn’t know what to expect. He just has to trust Keith with everything and he knows he can – his husband will make sure he becomes a man once again. Everything else will find answers soon enough.

On the morning of the third day, Shiro wakes up to something wet and warm, tight and spongy around his prick. Grey eyes blinking slowly, the wolf takes a few moments to realise what’s happening as he looks down, earning the view of Keith’s head, settled between his legs, his big cock stretching his mouth.

Shiro whines, feeling his cock twitch against Keith’s tongue. Keith’s half-lidded eyes turn to him, smug and playful, his mouth curling into a smirk. Oh. So, this is revenge for the last morning. It’s going to become routine, Shiro can tell, getting back to each other with… these sorts of naughty surprises.

Shiro forgets all about how he thought seeing his thick, doggy cock into Keith’s mouth would look vulgar and taboo. No – this is something the Alpha _knows_ he’ll jerk to for years to come, Keith’s button nose in the dark fur of his belly, his cheek distended by the girth of his prick, a line of drool on his puffed up, reddened lower lip.

“Taste so good, big boy,” Keith mewls, pulling away to kiss the arrow-like tip of his cock, sucking little kisses down to his knot. “Can feel your heartbeat in this, baby. Wanna feel it inside of me… bet that knot would feel like it’s tearing me in half.”

Shiro cries.

_Gods, want it too, baby._

Keith’s pussy around his prick, his moans of pleasure, his knot plugging him, keeping his copious come sloshing inside that soft, wet and willing womb. Shiro rolls on his back, giving his Omega better access to his cock. Keith parts his furry legs, holding him down as the wolf whines and pants, bobbing his head above him.

Shiro can’t believe how good Keith’s mouth feels, how silky his lips are around the head of his prick. The tightness of his burning throat makes Shiro’s paws reel in the nothingness, crying out pitifully as he breaks in, then out – he can feel his knot swell behind Keith’s teeth, the Omega pulling away just in time to pull away as it swells entirely.

Shiro comes to the idea of locking his knot behind Keith’s teeth, yipping in bliss. Keith sucks the head lazily, swallowing around him, trickles of the abundant come running on Shiro’s still turgid length. Keith licks it, looking into his eyes with feline charm, crawling over him to lift his _chiton_ , showing him the wetness of his thighs.

A string of juices clings to his leg. Shiro commits the image to memory, carves it into his mind. That red, spit-shiny cock and Keith’s pink flushed slit, just above it.

“Want you inside there, big boy,” Keith says, rubbing Shiro’s glans against his labia, pressing his cock between his lips. It barely fits inside the flesh, the girth so wide around the moist folds.

_S’never gonna fit—_

Keith’s mouth comes to his, licking his snout shamelessly, urging Shiro to open his mouth and let Keith explore, licking his fangs with a little moan. His cunt’s rubbing along his length, folds embracing his shaft, never penetrating but Keith rides him, slow and deliberate.

“You could… rip me to _pieces_ ,” Keith says, as if the thought arouses him endlessly. Shiro… has the most confused pleasure coursing through him just then. He’d never hurt Keith, he would never dare to even think of it. “So big…”

It’s the power of a wolf, a great big beast that makes Keith so… horny. Shiro knows he’ll have to tease Keith about it later. It’s not… so surprising, now that Shiro thinks about it. Keith’s always loved to have a powerful lover above him, to have his hair pulled and his hips drawn back into his prick. Keith loves when Shiro holds him down, loves when his usually mellow lover takes the reins and dominates him.

If that’s what Keith wants… Shiro will need to give it to him.

He flips them over, growling gently as Keith looks at him, confused. Once he understands, the Omega opens his thighs, panting in excitement as he presents his ass, just like a good bitch would have. Shiro _smells_ the glob of slick that must runs down his thighs when he presses his teeth to Keith's nape, just enough to hold, heavy prick just inches away from that soft, willing hole—

“Are you sure that’s where you heard that dog?” a voice comes from afar, pulling them both out of their little fantasy.

“Yeah, Andros. Sounded like it was dying or somethin’ so…” Another voice answers right away, the creaking of twigs and dead leaves telling just how _close_ the two men are.

“We need to fuck off.” Keith sounds panicked, forgetting all about his fantasy of getting mounted by an angry wolf, picking up their things as the sounds come closer and closer…

Once they’re far enough, they laugh about it. It’s not the first time they were nearly caught fooling around outside… and it surely won’t be the last.

 

 

 

## viii.

 

 

 

He smells it, one week into their journey to the fountain.

It’s that time.

Something sweet, like honey, like flowers in spring.

Shiro recognises that once-a-season flower, the scent of dewy nectar… it’s a heat. Keith’s heat is coming. When he was at war, Shiro consoled himself with the thought that he would probably come home just in time to catch it, just in time to bed Keith for the week and hopefully, for his seed to take, letting them become more than two, become a family, have children they yearned for.

He should be happy but… here?

This is bad news. Terrible news. Shiro wonders if Keith can tell that his heat is about to come, that he’ll have it outside, where anyone can smell him. Shiro doesn’t think all Alphas have ill intentions. Some of them might be merciful and offer Keith shelter and safety, protection to a lost Omega, in a vulnerable state and time… but a lot of them, Shiro knows, think of Omegas as brainless, pretty little birds.

If Keith is alone outside during his heat, without his mate?

He’s begging for troubles.

And if troubles find him, then, it’s only his fault.

Shiro shivers in disgust and horror at the thought, making sure to shadow Keith extra closely now. No one will dare to approach an Omega, even one that smells of a sweet, coming heat, when there’s a snarling, hulking two-hundred pounds beast to their side. Shiro bares his teeth to any Alpha they see, warning, possessive.

_That’s mine_ , he thinks, pouring the unspent aggressiveness and deep possessiveness he usually keeps in check. Nobody will dare to come close.

He might be just a dog, but he’s a puppy with razor sharp fangs, rows on rows of them and Shiro will have no remorse about using them on anyone that comes close.

There’s… more on his mind, too. Not just Alphas, but himself. Keith seems to not mind to… let him consummate their relationship fully. The last time they had had time for anything intimate, the Omega had been eager to take him inside his cunt. Shiro wonders if it was because of arousal.

Is Keith really alright with taking his cock – an _animal’s_ shaft – into him? Was it just the horniness talking? Shiro can’t know because he can’t ask. This form is incredibly frustrating and Shiro knows that he’s nervous. He just wants the best for Keith – he wants to know what his lover wants, doesn’t want him to come back from the mind-altering needs of his heat and regret to have been knotted by a beast.

Sure – Keith willingly stroked and sucked him. Still… this is a lot more.

They need some food. Keith can’t live only on the critters and prey birds that Shiro hunts for him and once Keith sees a stand of fresh fruits in one of the villages they cross, he can’t resist. Shiro stays close, alert, ears straight and moving with every noise, every word. The merchant is a sweet old woman who compliments Keith on his expensive _chlamys_ , finding its vibrant crimson colour lovely.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Keith says truly, handing her an extra piece of coin for the compliment.

He leaves with the bright candy red apple in hand, one hand on Shiro’s back as they lazily walk together. In only a few days… everything will go back to normal. Shiro turns when he smells the stank of an Alpha, meeting the lecherous gaze of three young studs.

Shiro doesn’t trust them.

They are the one who look like hungry dogs.

“You alone there, honey?” one drawls, flashing a smile. “I’m Solon. Care to tell me your name?”

Keith stays unimpressed, biting his fruit without a care for the Alpha. “I have Brutus with me,” he corrects, rubbing behind Shiro’s ear. The wolf licks his hand, soft and gentle with his mate, before he turns to the three Alphas, baring teeth toward them. “Don’t need more company. He’s enough.”

Keith’s assurance grates the three Alphas.

“C’mon – it’s dangerous alone, sweetie. Where’re you headed? We can accompany you.” Shiro growls when Solon comes closer, snapping at his hand as it comes close to his head. “Sheesh… dangerous puppy you got there, sweetie.”

“Don’t call me that,” Keith says, walking a little faster. Shiro trots behind him, fur fluffing up to appear even bigger than he is, mouth open, ears forward. “I don’t know you. I’m just going to Thebas to find my mate – he got injured in the war. I have to take care of him.”

The news of him being mated only makes the three ruffians chuckle.

“Aw, c’mon. He’s not there, is he? Don’t be so shy. Y’smell so good, honey,” another Alpha croon, trying to puff up his chest, as if it would change Keith’s mind.

Shiro growls louder, steady and rattling his ribcage, long ribbons of drool dripping of his maw.

“Brutus’ telling you to go,” Keith warns, sounding a little more uneasy. Shiro can smell his fear. It’s like oil on his aggressivity. The village is disappearing behind a hill, they’ll need to cross a small wood to reach the seaside and continue their journey. “I think you better do that.”

“Like I’m gonna listen to that mutt,” Solon sneers, coming closer in a few long strides. Shiro barks, warning. It’s his last chance.

Solon retaliates by kicking him, drawing a painful bay out of Shiro. He stumbles back an instant, seeing the two other Alphas run forward as Solon grips Keith’s wrist, pulling him in to grab his jaw.

Keith screeches and fights. Something inside Shiro’s mind snaps.

“What’s an Omega doing alone, uh? You’re just—”

Shiro never lets him the time to finish. He jumps on him, his heavy body easily pulling him to the ground. His throat is tender, easy to rip to pieces as Shiro silences his screams. His friends stand stunned, watching as the raging beast rips the man apart, throwing pieces after pieces of organs around, shaking his head to break bones in half. Blood drips down his throat – Shiro’s never felt such anger, this sort of excitement that raises every hair of his body.

He keeps growling as he turns around, letting go of the lifeless body to stare at the two, fear-smelling Alphas. He approaches slowly, teeth bloody and bared, promising just as much pain to the other two.

Shiro licks his lips clean off the blood, tongue passing over his chops slowly. One single victim was enough to scare the others into flight, all of them whimpering as they run, screaming that that dog was rabid, that it must have been a bloodthirsty beast. These little idiots will think twice about attacking Keith now.

But really... the blood doesn't taste so good. There's a strong sensation of copper – it's not like a coagulated raw steak, it's warm and thick... Shiro pulls away from the still gurgling body, throat ripped to shreds. There's still adrenaline coursing through him, anger filling every of his blood vessels.

When Keith touches his neck, Shiro snaps his jaws at him before recognising him. Keith stands there for a moment, stunned at his aggression and Shiro returns the stare for a moment. How dare these men think they could _touch_ his mate? Shiro can’t believe the anger, the possessiveness that rushes right through him in that instant. Does Keith not smell enough like him? Hasn’t he marked him enough? Has he not scented him enough? He was _right there_.

With a snarl, the Alpha pounces him, earning a less than glorious squeak from his mate, one Keith would pretend he can’t produce. With one paw over his stomach, Shiro pushes his jaw up from his nose, growling as he smells Solon’s hands on him still. How dare he touch him, he seethes, fuming, wet nose running over his lover’s jaw, just where one of these punks squeezed him. There could be a bruise and Shiro hates himself for it.

“Shi-Shiro,” Keith says meekly, and that’s when Shiro smells it.

Arousal. Keith’s wetting – he can smell his cyprine leaking along his folds, can tell how his little dick is rising under his _chiton_. In an instant, Shiro can feel his passion take a new turn. There’s ways to make this all right, he thinks. Marking him. Nearly forcefully, he slides his tongue inside Keith’s mouth, earning a shuddering sigh as his tongue delves to the one waiting for him.

Shiro will judge himself later for the arousal that comes with this gesture, to let Keith taste the blood of his slain enemies, on his mate’s tongue.

His mate kisses back sloppily, fisting the fur of his collarbone with abandon, mouth open to breathe. The fear of before transforms into a need to be touched, to be owned. The Omega parts his legs and lies down, fully submissive to the dangerous animal above him. Shiro can tell and even smell that Keith loves him, from the sweet scent of arousal wafting off him in potent waves, rendering Shiro a mess of instincts and needs.

He needs – _more_ , more of Keith, more of this addictive smell of pleasure.

Shiro growls when Keith’s hand moves to his clothes. Was he going to touch himself? Shiro can’t know but Keith lifts his chiton, smirking before his expression changes to a soft, meek Omega, moist thighs parted to reveal his budding lips, opened wide to the cool air around them, glistening in the dimming light of the day. His cock’s a little wet from it too and Shiro wants to lick Keith’s slick from it, diving to have a taste.

If the morning dew clinging to petals could be tasted, Shiro’s sure it would be as sweet as this. He can’t resist dipping his tongue into Keith’s pussy, drawing something that sounds like pain from the boy. But it’s not enough and Shiro wriggles, his cock drawn out, hard and leaking, throbbing enough to make him whine in despair. He wants more, and his fuzzy mind can only think of how sweet Keith’s body would be around his knot.

Keith is as desperate as he is and moves to his knees, presenting him is ass with a whine.

“Please, please, Alpha,” he sobs, watching him with tears clinging to his eyelashes. So long and thick, Shiro knows.

With a snarl, Shiro mounts him in one thrust, sliding all the way inside from the brute force of it – it sends Keith tumbling, shuddering in the union of pain and pleasure. He’s glad the spell kept his girth – Keith cries out, enjoying the initial burn of the stretch, biting his lower lip in bliss. Shiro wastes no time to impose the rhythm, forcing Keith to his forearms for purchase, his face pushed into the moss and dirt, mouth wide open in gasps and pleas for more, for his knot…

The wolf whines.

They must look like a depraved man’s mosaic, an ode to Dionys’ animality. He thinks again of how Keith promised to feed him the milk of his heat, just like how his Maenads would feed wild animals. Shiro thinks of his duplicity, of how pleasure and pain meeting in the union of their bodies in this moment represents it so well.

In that instant, Keith comes and, to the quivers of his cunt, Shiro follows and feels his knot inflates. He seals himself as deep as his body allows him, leaning all over his mate as the young man whines in both agony and desire, back dipping in the prettiest arch under him.

“Bite me,” he orders Shiro. He growls – it will hurt. Keith requests is again, firmer, gripping the fur of his nape and bringing him closer, “I said, _bite me_.”

There’s a shiver in him at his mate’s domineering behaviour. It shouldn’t fly for an Alpha, and he almost wants to push him back down where he belongs, submissive and sweet like earlier. If he hadn’t come a second ago, Shiro knows he would have. He obliges, settling his teeth on Keith’s shoulder and Keith pushes him _lower_ , growling in turn.

“Do it like you mean it,” he instructs.

Shiro whines this time.

“Harder,” he says again, steady voice leaving no choice for Shiro but to obey.

Blood spills in his mouth again and Keith sobs like he’s coming again, hips pulling around his knot, too big to be drawn out. He fucks himself on the little bit he can until he comes again, a bubbling mess as he finally rides it out.

Shiro pulls away from Keith’s shoulder, watching as the boy slumps to the grass beneath them, winded from the fierce lovemaking. A little guilty, Shiro licks the new mating mark from his Omega’s neck, noticing the deep punctures of his teeth, remembering just how dangerous his dentition is. It’ll leave a nasty scar.

“It’s okay,” Keith reassures him, panting still, wrapping his hand into his ruined chiton to apply pressure to the bleeding wound. “I like it – I like all the marks you leave on me. Don’t… don’t be afraid to be rough, even like this. I… gods, I loved this.”

Keith seems more relaxed than he has been ever since they left their hut, moving a hand to his cunt to touch the way it stretches around the knot. Such a tiny hole shouldn’t be able to take such a big cock – the thought makes them both aroused, their bodies still too exhausted to take the feeling as anything but sensory overload.

Shiro presses his forehead to Keith’s back until his prick swells down, allowing him to pull out. Keith moves to his back and Shiro is close enough still to see his come, trickling out of that fucked open little hole. He wants to bury his face into it, just like he often does, but the smell of spunk is strong and potent. The idea that it’s inside Keith, poured into his tummy, is also appealing. After almost half an hour of gravity working for them, he assumes some could take, even if it’s impossible.

It almost feels impossible but – he needs more still. To mark him. Again. And again.

When Keith moves to stand up, Shiro shoves him back down with a growl. Keith laughs at that, amused at his dominance now that he’s not desperate to find pleasure. “What now, puppy?” Keith croons with mocking pout. “This good boy didn’t have enough? He wants more of that little pussy?” he asks, pushing his lips apart, spreading the come over the outer labia in glistening ribbons.

Oh, if only Keith _knew_.

Shiro just keeps growling, his heavy weight keeping Keith to the ground as his instincts take over once again. He barely feels himself lift one leg before he smells the piss, the robust and acrid stench, the powerful stream hitting Keith’s crotch bullseye. Keith’s eyes widen, as if he didn’t expect a canine to mark his territory like this. Through the smell of urine, Shiro can smell more of Keith’s arousal.

The abundant liquid covers him, soaking his _chiton_ under them.

“Shi-Shiro,” he stutters, moving a hand to touch, running his fingers in the rivulets of dog piss on his tummy. There’s a little tide pool in his bellybutton, some more into the fold of his stomach. A stream ran all the way to his collarbone and neck. Keith’s clothes are ruined and Shiro stops the need to lick him clean.

It’s just then Shiro realises what he’s _done_. He’s jumped on Keith and ravaged him out there in the open and… the pee makes him feel a little dizzy. Isn’t that… degrading? Submissively, he lies on his back, belly shown in submission and apology. His mate was apparently unfazed by his display of aggression and pets his stomach slowly, looking at him with curiosity. Shiro wants to keep his eyes on him now, rolling to his side to dart his tongue out and lick his cheeks as Keith embraces him with a shuddering breath, burying his face in the furnished fur on his collarbone.

Keith giggles at another lick to his back, breathless, he too, shivering with the leftover excitement. "You're gross," he murmurs, touching the dusty fur, tracing his moist muzzle. Shiro lets out a little whine at that. “And you made me gross too,” Keith sighs, looking at his body, with only a vaguely annoyed look, as if he’d only dirtied himself while cooking.

_Really, now? Can't I get a break?_ _I just saved you_ , he tries to convey through body language, looking at the boy from below, laying his head on his naked thighs, uncaring for the disagreeable smell. Keith's smell is still laced with old fear, and it makes him want to keep him covered, to wrap around him and never let go. He needs him safe -- and it's so difficult to do when he can't hold him in an embrace. This body is strong, it's fast and ruthless... but it lacks so much to make his lover happy. He can't tell him how much he loves him; how much he means to him. When Keith is scared, he can't wrap him in an embrace.

It feels a little odd to think that when he’s just… _degraded_ him like this.

"Let's get washed up, alright?" Keith says, trying to calm down as Shiro noses at him still, patting his forehead before pulling him along to walk to the nearby sea.

The chilly water should help him calm down, Shiro thinks, staying close to Keith as is lover leads them to a shallow pool left over from the high tide. They have plenty of time to wash before it rises again. Shiro inspects the water to make sure nothing dangerous hides in it before waddling in, pressing his forehead to Keith’s stomach once his lover joins him.

“Are you so cuddly because you feel bad?”

Shiro tries not to be so damn open.

“I can see you. Your tail’s between your legs.”

Dammit.

“Make those ears perk up, Shiro. You didn’t do anything wrong… I liked it, okay?” When Shiro looks up in surprise, Keith just laughs. “What can I say? I like it when a big, strong Alpha shows me my place.” Keith rubs his ears again and – ah, there it is. His tail is wagging and Shiro can’t even help himself, clinging to Keith with a little whine.

“I love you, Shiro. Even… whatever that was.”

Even the weird, bestial bits that came with this.

Finally, Shiro can relax.

 

 

## ix.

 

 

 

It takes a few days for the dust to settle.

None of them mind.

The seaside air is good on them – Shiro can tell Keith’s missed it, since he grew up in a similar place, just south from here, playing on the pebble beaches with Allura. It’s nice to see him laugh, throwing pebbles at the ocean and watching Shiro run behind them to bring them back.

The tide left small pools of sun-warmed water, giving them the occasion to finally wash more often. Shiro stays close as Keith undresses, watching his lover’s pretty form as he sat in a shallow, natural pond. Keith's hair had gained a few inches since he’s left for war, Shiro notices then, looking at the way Keith’s beautiful strands cling to his shoulders and collarbone, almost reaching his perky tits.

On his jaw stands out the dark shape of a bruise. Shiro licks it at every occasion he has, nosing it in apologies. He should have mauled them before, he thinks, guilty, only cheering up marginally when Keith pecks his muzzle in return.

“Don’t worry about this,” the Omega says, watching his lover with fond eyes, pulling him to the water.

Shiro obliges, tall enough that his head comes out of the water, sitting against Keith to press his forehead to his neck, enjoying the lukewarm water and his spouse’s presence, the smell of his coming heat… Shiro licks his scent gland, just below his bond mark, earning a little chuckle from Keith.

“Yeah… it’s coming.” Keith sounds a little resigned, again. Shiro licks his face, hoping to cheer him up. It works – Keith smiles and hugs him close. “It’s fine, Shiro. You’re here, aren’t you? Nothing can happen. We’ll find a safe place and… ride it out.”

Shiro looks at him.

_Are you… really fine with this?_

Keith understands the silent question of those inquisitive grey eyes, giving a little nod. “I don’t mind – how you are. I just… hoped we’d be home by now. There’s nothing we can do about it now so… let’s just find somewhere we can stay for a few days. As long as you’re with me, everything will be fine.”

 

 

 

An abandoned, small home seems to be the best place they’ll find. Keith gathers hay from outside to create a makeshift bed, tucking a blanket over it. There’s a small river running about a hundred meters down east and Keith fills many gourds with its water, knowing he’ll need to be hydrated for the week.

Shiro patrols around, hunting for food and gathers some berries he knows are safe to eat. There’s a few more things they would need but they make the best of it. Keith needs to feel at home and safe. Shiro tries to scent the entirety of the room they’ll be in, wanting to make this as comfortable as he can for his mate. He leads Keith to a wild apple tree, watching with awe as his husband climbs it with ease, gathering a few apples in his arms to add them to their supplies.

Keith’s scent is a crescendo during that night, ever rising and ever stronger.

It’s coming.

 

 

 

Shiro wakes up to the sound of moaning, his paw still wrapped over Keith’s middle section, his nose stuck under Keith’s ear. He groans, slowly coming to his senses as he associates the sounds and the shaking of the chest below him to panting.

“Alpha,” Keith murmurs, lips pressed to the tip of his fluffy ear. “Alpha, need you…”

Shiro lifts his head, groggy from sleep, nose assaulted by the potent pheromones of heat. The sound of something wet draws his attention, to Keith’s slender fingers pushing in and out of him, chasing a relief he’ll only find with an Alpha’s knot plugging his pretty hole full of come. Shiro salivates at the sight, carefully biting the Omega’s hand to pull it away from his glistening folds, licking the tasty juices off his fingers.

Salty yet sweet… Keith’s been at this for a while, Shiro knows.

He tries to convey his annoyance through his eyes.

_Why didn’t you wake me? You little doof._

Keith croons softly, trying to pull his Alpha closer to him, mouth open. “Alpha, Alpha. Kiss me, please. Need you, need all of you…”

Shiro obliges with a wet, tender kiss. Keith sucks his Alpha’s tongue into his mouth, accepting the intruding organ to press, explore and seek into his tiny mouth. Keith tries to bring his hand to his cunt again, aching to be touched. Shiro puts his paw over it, trapping the small hand, growling in warning.

_No. Just me_

_Only I get to touch you._

Keith loves him when he’s dominant – especially when he’s in heat. Shiro’s going to give it to him, give him everything he wants. He pulls away from Keith’s messy lips, now covered in their shared spit, licking a path down to his swollen breasts, tiny beads of milk pearling over his nipples, hard as pinpricks.

If there’s something Shiro loves about heats, it’s when Keith lactates. It doesn't happen for all Omegas but the cocktail of hormones causes a lucky percentage of them to find their breasts filling up rather than swelling, containing the coveted milk many Alphas admit they dream about. Shiro loves to suck his lover dry, spending his days in bed with him, cock inside him and mouth devouring his sweet teat… He barely even needs to get out of bed then, satiated by his Omega’s body, only needing to take care of his mate’s own needs.

It’s exactly the same now – Keith will give him what he needs to stay at all times, Shiro will give him the release he desperately chases for.

Shiro licks his tits clean, eager to taste Keith’s sweet milk. It tastes just like he remembers, like honey; Shiro can’t get enough of it, pushing his paw on Keith’s tit, pressing on it like a pup with the rough pads of his feet, leaving tiny scratches with his claws. It bursts into his hungry mouth, urging Keith to sit up.

“Let me feed you, Alpha,” Keith asks, meek and submissive, smiling at the idea he can give his husband something, kneeling to put his chest at Shiro’s level. The wolf is so tall he needs to bend a little to accommodate his delicate lover, darting his tongue out to lick the rivulets of milk pouring out of the stimulated tit.

Keith massages his breast slowly, urging the milk to come out. Shiro gently wraps his teeth around the Omega’s nipple, pushing his tongue to his mate’s flesh to encourage the sweet liquid, swallowing eagerly as it trickles into his mouth. Shiro shivers at the taste he’s missed, imagining his pups suckling on these beautiful tits; they’re perfect, just a handful, a little less even – Shiro admits he has big hands, and they look especially big on his mate’s body.

“Ah, Shiro…”

Keith wriggles, trying to rub his still aching, needy cunt against his thighs.

“M’sorry, Alpha… I need… need your knot, please… can’t take it – feels like I’m burning…”

Keith’s clit is uncovered, an insistent forbidden fruit that Shiro licks, once, twice. The salt of cyprine on his tongue urges Shiro’s cock to come out, hard as rock, needing to breach into the warmth of that lovely little hole. Keith reads his mind, turning around to kneel, wriggling his ass, as if Shiro needed to be enticed to mount him again.

His cock doesn’t even miss his cunt – it enters Keith right on the first try, pushing deep, deep down to his cervix, kissing it with the tip of his swollen prick. Keith moans in bliss, whimpering softly. Shiro wastes no time to move, fucking him hard and fast, pace unforgiving as he takes what he’s due, what he’s offered on a silver tray. Keith moans again, thrusting back on his mate’s enthusiastic jabs.

“Yes, Alpha, Alpha…”

Shiro bites his neck, not hard, just to keep him down, keep him in his place. Keith comes at the sensation. He’s a good bitch – willing and submissive, hands tugging at the blanket under him as his cunt drools around his Alpha's cock. Shiro would grin if he could, feeling the soft skin of Keith back against the fur of his belly.

The boy is eager for his knot, begs for him as it fills up, pulling another long orgasm out of him. Keith shivers, whimpering each time more come spurts out of Shiro’s swollen shaft, filling his stomach with each of the generous loads. He’s hanging limply to his mate’s knot once he’s done, fucked out with euphoria, fingers drumming over his stomach.

“Hope it takes, Alpha… want your pups. A whole litter inside me…”

Shiro never wanted anything so much – his balls even spurt out a little more come, as if his whole body agrees.

By the end of the day, Keith’s stomach seems a little engorged, perhaps from the sheer amount of come inside of it. His pussy lips are puffy, nearly chaffed from the intense love-making. Keith trembles when Shiro licks at the ribbons of come pouring out of him, clinging to his thighs and back.

He’s a mess. And Shiro can’t lie – he loves it.

 

 

 

Keith and he get along for multiple reasons. Both of them are fairly calm persons, preferring to stay inside with a good book rather than to attend a party. Keith likes the quiet of the countryside, as much as Shiro likes being away from the busy civilisation of towns and villages.

Keith is as curious as Shiro is knowledgeable – both are eager to learn, eager to discover new things. They share an interest in many disciplines, and…

Well, an interest in less than savoury sexual practices. Shiro can’t imagine the shame that would come to him if another Alpha found out that he _loves_ when his Omega mate ties his hands behind his back, riding him and using him for his own pleasure. Shiro likes giving his power to Keith, to let him take every decision.

For Keith… his mate likes trust. Keith is not someone who trusts easily: Shiro had to gain his lover’s devotion with much efforts, halfway into their marriage. His sweetheart would now trust him with his life, as he often says, as if to remind Shiro of just how important he is to him. 

During sex, it shows in many ways. Keith lets him hold his head as he mouth-fucks him, holding the Omega against his groin, his nose buried into his pubes until he chokes, passes out. Shiro thought that he was absolutely mad at first – later, he understood that Keith loved the danger, that little edge of panic even though he knows Shiro would take care of him.

Shiro thought his ropes were kinky before. Keith had showed him another kind of deviance and he couldn’t help the love he feels bursting out of his chest when he stares into Keith’s wet eyes, filled with tears from asphyxiation, but also with love, devotion and trust.

There’s also Keith’s satisfaction, his excitement at being… degraded, he says, when Shiro takes him as he sleeps. The fact that Shiro would have never thought of doing such a thing before Keith told him that he wanted it.

“Fuck me when I sleep.” Always brutally honest, Keith nearly made him choke. “Wanna wake up with my Alpha’s come pouring out my pussy.”

“You, you mean – now?” Shiro’s heart beat too fast, too hard. Could he… really do this? Shiro felt like it was too much, crossing a line he shouldn’t. Yet the idea of Keith’s cute face as he sleeps… it always pulls at his heartstrings and his prick, lifts him up at the simple knowledge of how amazing the sex is, how pretty Keith is, holes impaled on his cock.

“Do you not want to?” Keith sounded disappointed, shameful to have admitted a dark fantasy and be refused. “We don’t – it’s alright if…”

“Are you sure? I’ll… I want to do it. If it’s really what you want.”

Keith nodded, “Yes! Please – thanks, thank you, Shiro…” He sounded so eager. Shiro smiled, burying his nose into his lover’s neck as he smelled his arousal.

“Tonight?” he asked.

Keith shook his head, squirming as Shiro’s fingers found his cock, encouraging him to speak with little sucks to his jaw, “Surprise me… I, I wanna wake up and… and I wanna know what you’ve – that you’ve used me.”

Keith, uncaring for the laws of any of the City-States, was and _is_ always illegally arousing and cute at the same time.

It took Shiro a month to find the perfect moment, letting Keith simmer in the apprehension of that desired morning. Keith was fast asleep, curled next to him in their fresh linen blankets. Shiro had to be careful not to wake him, thrusting shallowly and slow, minding Keith’s breathing as he fucked him, leaving kisses and bite marks on his neck. It took Shiro only minutes to come, aroused by Keith’s quickening breath and the taboo aspect.

Keith looked so happy in the morning, his sleep clothes pushed up to his neck, staring at the mess of abundant come still clinging to his folds. He rolled to him, kissing Shiro awake with a smile. “Thank you so much…”

Shiro doesn’t know when exactly, but then and now, it’s always clear Keith _will_ be the death of him, one of these days. He’ll die, popping one last boner,  as his heart will not be able to take how hot and adorable his wife always is.

Especially during heat.

Shiro can barely keep up with his lover’s neediness, waking up more than once to his cock sheathed into Keith’s tiny mouth, heavy balls into his hands. He’s exhausted, unable to leave for more than five minutes every few hours without causing his mate great distress, coming back each time to his sorrowful whimpers. Keith clings to him with little _Alpha_ s until Shiro mounts him again, dousing the potent fire inside of him.

Even when he sleeps, Keith is so cute Shiro cannot resist kissing him – and, well, he doesn’t have to, not with Keith’s explicit permission.

How could he resist the delights expressly offered to him when Keith is like this? Ass lightly propped in the air, cunt well-used and tumescent from the last few days. There’s dried come all over the Omega’s thighs and ass, old cyprine… Shiro licks him once, twice. Lavishes his attention to his spouse’s insatiable clit, delighting in his helpless wriggling.

Keith’s exhausted from his heat too, and Shiro wants more of him, blood boiling in need for touching, licking, biting… His mate needs everything that Shiro needs to give him. Shiro climbs over him, paws locking under the Omega’s come-swollen stomach. He misses his hole a few times, eventually sinking in to the hilt.

There’s no need or time for subtlety.

Keith is rocked like a doll under his powerful jabs, frowning in his sleep, tiny moans spilling out of his half-open lips, a line of drool at the corner of his mouth. His eyes flutter open, confusion etched over the innocent expression as Keith wakes up, fists balled close to his cheeks.

“Shiro?” he murmurs, too tired to even move, gasping as his body winds up tighter and tighter, ready and needing the coming release.

Shiro licks his lips, sliding his tongue in his mate’s mouth.

Keith grunts, lifting his ass a little for better access, letting his mate have his way with him.

“Take your bitch whenever you want, Alpha,” he whispers, mewls of pleasure making every word higher-pitched than usual. “M’yours… my pussy, yours… all of me, all my milk… want you to knot me, put your pups in me, a whole litter...”

Keith cries out when Shiro's inflating knot catches on his entrance, then yanks out as Shiro’s pace grows desperate _. Yes!_ He wants to pump Keith full of their children, wants to see him grow fat with them. A bestial, primitive part of his brain imagines him, still as a wolf, hunting for his beautiful, naked mate, as he brings him back bloody kills to eat.

Growing wild in his fucking, Shiro growls into Keith’s ears. The poor thing can only clench hard around him, sobbing in bliss as the beast above takes him, powerful and dangerous, submitting him fully to his frantic behaviour.

Shiro thinks of Keith, laying on a mattress of moss and leaves into a forest lair, swollen with a second litter he’ll put inside his belly as soon as the first one is out. There’s wolf pups around him, three of them, tiny and blind, dark in fur, crying for their dam’s attention. Keith brings one to his leaking tit, watching their child with tender affection as it latches and greedily drinks…

Shiro’s knot jams inside his mate’s cunt, trapping him as his come pours out, so abundant it froths around his red prick. Keith hiccups in primal bliss, licking Shiro’s lip to request a sloppy kiss, whining to show his devout submission. They make out, lazily, Keith staying meek and docile under his beast’s strong body.

“Hope your seed takes,” Keith says sleepily, touching the stretch of the knot inside of him, content in being owned. “My Alpha… I hope our puppies are strong, healthy… I’ll feed them well – they’ll be big when you’ll teach them to hunt…”

Shiro nuzzles Keith’s neck, carefully lying close to him, dozing off as he listens to his mate’s wishful blabbering.

“They’ll be so cute… all black like you, going to grow so big, just like you… when they leave, we’ll have another litter.” Keith sighs, finding his folds to rub his clit, biting his lips not to moan too loud. For once, Shiro lets him. “You’ll – _ah_ – take me like you did now, mount me through my heat… oh, Alpha… I won’t have a voice when you’re done with me. _Oh_ …” Keith tugs on his knot, fucking himself the little ways it gives. “Hope I’ll be big – there’s always… gods – always more on the second, _fuck_ …”

Keith comes again with a hiccup.

There’s no way a wolf can impregnate an Omega… but for the time being, Shiro joins Keith in his dreams of interspecies domesticity, lulled to sleep by his mate’s voice and loving fingers into his fur.

 

 

 


	4. act iv

## x.

 

 

 

When Shiro hears Keith’s quiet humming as they hit the road again, he safely assumes his lover is more than alright with everything that just happened during his week-long heat.

They washed, mindful that they would soon enter a sanctuary and would need to purify themselves beforehand. If not out of worship, at least out of politeness. And If not for any of that, then, just for the luck of having a clear, lovely river next to their last camp. They both need it after such a busy heat – Shiro’s glad to swim a little, ridding his fur of all the bodily fluids that matted it.

“So handsome now,” Keith purrs to him as he’s dry, legs still looking a little sensitive. Shiro feels some pride to know he’s to blame, waving his tail at his mate’s compliment. Keith kneels to kiss him on the mouth, now entirely shameless in doing so.

Selas’ fountain should be just a three-days walk away, hidden somewhere in the mountains. One side is licked by the waves of the ocean, the other a gentle slope, covered by a lush forest. It’s in there, Keith tells him.

“Allura told me there was pink trees,” Keith says, keeping a hand on Shiro's back as they hike lazily, as if to make their journey last a little more. “Pink leaves – she said it was beautiful.”

Shiro can’t wait to see it.

If now they spend each night in each other’s arms and paws, the Alpha misses holding his lover. Keith’s skin has taken this addictive, sweet smell now… Shiro can’t get enough of it. It makes him want to follow Keith everywhere, keep his snout right on his scent gland, where the smell is the strongest. It’s a new smell but then again, many are. There’s so much he could never smell as a man and now, Keith’s body has no more secrets for him.

“You’re so clingy,” Keith notices, playful, one dewy morning they wake at dawn, amused at Shiro smelling his chest. The wolf can’t even care – he wants to enjoy his Omega’s company and crawls up on him to kiss him, licking his chin like a needy pup.

Keith stretches lazily, yawning as Shiro covers him like a blanket.

“I think I’ll ask Selas to let you become a wolf again, sometimes. On the full moon, maybe.” Shiro looks up to him with a raised brow. Keith laughs and pets his neck, giving him a smug grin, “The sex’s too good. Can’t give that up.”

Shiro sighs dramatically, crossing his paws and laying his head on Keith’s chest. There has to be a word to shame Keith’s more than taboo fantasies… Shiro can’t find any he’d like to use to playfully chastise him.

“Aw, come on, dummy. Not always. I do miss your hugs, too.”

 

 

 

The trek takes them almost a week more. Finding the fountain in the maze of thick trees proves to be harder than first anticipated and, as it’s entirely fitting for a place reputed to be magic and grant wishes, they stumble on it, crossing a dense bush that they’d walked in front of many times, and are met with a tall statue of Selas, sitting in the middle of small waterfalls.

Shiro needs to look up to see the top of it – she looks peaceful and radiant, white marble against the ebony magmatic rock of the cliff, a hand scooping a thin stream of water as another seems to be placed to hold the moon, as it crosses the sky. It would perfectly align with the shape of her palm during the early morning…

Shiro nearly forgets to take in the grandiose of the scenery as he observes the carved idol. It’s certainly a miracle that they could not see this immense clearing from outside of it.

Tall trees with nearly black barks surround the area, growing in a round circle, much like an over-sized fairy ring. Their leaves do fall, in a slow dance, to the ground they have carpeted, to the water they scatter on like dainty, small fishes, floating aimlessly. There’s a subtle scent of spring, making Shiro want to roll around in the petals.

It’s such a beautiful, peaceful place.

Shiro dares a look to Keith.

His mate seems emotional, throat tight and eyes wet. Is he worried? Scared Selas will not lift his curse? He smells distraught. Shiro licks his palm, to remind him he’s there, that he loves him and would no matter what.

The Omega smiles, pecking his nose. Shiro returns with a sweet press of his.

“Let’s go,” Keith says, standing at the edge of the shallow pond. “Just… stay out for now, alright?”

There’s a pause. Keith licks his lips.

“I… I don’t know how this works. Or if… she will listen, but…” Keith turns to him, looking vulnerable and raw as he takes his shoes off, undressing to take a nearly sheer, pearlescent _chiton_ from his bag. “Allura said that she always listens to her children.”

Shiro’s ears perk up. He’s never seen it but… he recognises Allura’s smell on it. Confused, he looks up to Keith.

“There’s so much… I never thought I’d need to tell you, because that was all behind me,” Keith says, voice wavering to the rhythm of his heart, beating so fast Shiro can smell his mate’s anxiety. “I thought… it wouldn’t matter. So, I didn’t need to… I never wanted to hide this from you.”

Shiro stared at the delicate clasps of the flimsy _chlamys_ on Keith’s back. He calls, a soft little _awoo?_

“I just… hope this won’t change how you feel about me,” Keith admits, hurried, fingers rubbing each other as he enters the water. “I’ll do anything for you, Shiro. Even this. She said I’d know what to do.”

Keith’s floaty gown drags into the water behind him. He kneels, dignified and devoted, in the middle of the pond, gazing at the moon goddess’ altar as the twilight bathed everything in fire.

“Please, Mother of Night,” Keith murmurs into his joined palms. “Allow me just this selfish demand.”

Shiro soon hears Keith, gently singing the prayers. He stumbles, sometimes – like it would be hard to remember the words. Shiro is reminded, then, of himself, as a boy, trying to learn by heart what his preceptor taught him. He would often need a second to remember the next paragraph he’d recite, as he searched for it in his mind…

Shiro understands.

Someone taught these songs to Keith when he was a child.

More questions come to his mind, adding to the endless list of mysteries.

For now, Shiro stands, ears and body alert, watching as Keith sings, in this peculiar Marmora tongue that Shiro’s never quite grasped. From the intonation, Shiro guesses Keith hasn’t spoken Marmora since he was a boy.

Something shifts in the air. The smell of the flowery trees grows stronger, the glow of the marble gets more blinding.

Shiro watches, captivated, as the autumn sun sets behind the cliff. Keith keeps going, looking at the stone idol, as if for some sort of encouragement. That he is doing this right, that his slip-ups will not cost them what could be their only chance at recovering Shiro’s original body.

When the full moon finally sets itself in Selas’ outstretched hand, its bright light illuminates the glade like milky sunlight.

Shiro approaches carefully as Keith stands, tail moving hopefully behind him. The moon… it reflects on his head. Shiro blinks, thinking his eyes must be failing him before he understands, eyes glued to his mate as he kneels before him again.

His once silky, ink black hair has turned as white as the clouds.

There’s lovely, red crescent marks on his cheeks.

Keith… Shiro remembers Allura. And that witch. They all shared these marks and the white hair. Shiro doesn’t need more to make the link. Allura and Keith himself are witches, bestowed with great powers by the goddess herself.

“It doesn’t look bad?” Keith asks, playing with a strand of his pale hair, trying to see the colour for himself. “Allura always said I’d look like a ghost since I’m so pale. And that, I’d look… a little like, like a…”

Keith realises he’s blabbering, looking down to his knees, sniffling, once, "It’s… it’s a little cold.” It takes some time before he adds, “I didn’t… know for sure if this would work. I wasn’t sure if I was really… if I was really a… you know. I didn’t want to be because – I was scared you’d think differently of me.”

Shiro starts to understand, now. The myth is literal: Selas is the mother of _her_ children. She is Keith’s mother and, through this, Keith possesses a magic within him, now just awakened. Shiro just whines, rubbing his nose along Keith’s jaw.

Nothing will ever change the fact that he loves Keith with all his heart. Not even such a big revelation. Shiro can only stare, in awe, to his beloved, smitten all over again by his beautiful indigo eyes.

Keith only ever needed someone who would accept him. Flaws, secrets and all.

Shiro licks Keith’s nose and jaw, wanting to convey just how much none of this matters to how much he loves him and always will. They still have to talk, yes – but Keith doesn’t have to worry about his mate’s feelings ever changing. When Keith seems to doubt, Shiro slobbers over his face enthusiastically, whimpering playfully.

Keith giggles and laughs, pulling him into a hug, clinging to his collar. Shiro keeps licking his shoulder, needing to kiss him, all over, show Keith how terribly he’s loved.

Keith peels himself off a moment later, regaining his serious demeanour. “I’ll bring you home a man,” the Omega promises. “I’ll do whatever it takes. We’ll go back home, hand in hand. Together. I won’t leave you like this.”

 _I always knew you would save me_ , Shiro thinks, tail wagging as Keith backs into the water, gesturing for Shiro to come closer. The water is actually lukewarm, much warmer than Shiro would have expected it to be. He follows Keith to the middle of the pond.

Keith touches his face with one hand – the left one, just like how Selas holds the moon. His other hand extends to the water behind them, cupping a handful of it to bring it to his face, whispering slowly, “Oh, Mother of Night. Please, break this man’s curse, for he…”

Shiro hears the whizzing, just past his ear before Keith’s scream. His hand whips from his cheek to his shoulder, where a crude arrow pierces him. The smell of blood assaults Shiro's nose – he turns around, knowing one arrow will soon mean more, his blood bubbling with aggression.

Keith holds his wound, staying behind him, breath growing rapid and shuddering. “Shiro,” he begs, without knowing for what. The wolf knows his lover has never been hurt like this. He needs… to do something. Once they are safe.

Another arrow lands in the water next to them.

Shiro barks. Only cowards stay hidden.

A hunched figure comes out of the woods, as if she knew exactly where to find the pond, uncovering her hooded head, revealing a sick grin underneath. Shiro yips at the sight. It’s that witch – the one who’s transformed him. Keith limps to his side, clutching his fur to keep himself upright. Three men armed with bows follow her, tall and strong. Shiro can smell the ill-intentions wafting off them in waves.

One last man steps out, an Alpha this time, holding a curved sword with a wicked grin on his face.

Shiro growls, steady, dangerous. He places himself between his lover and the witch, shielding Keith from anything they might attempt. The fur of his back fluffs up, standing like spikes as he tries to make himself more imposing, an enemy they wouldn’t want to mess with.

The witch just laughs at his antics, walking closer without a care for his displays of aggression. “So, this is why you’ve resisted my curses,” she says, voice grating and hoarse. She looks at Keith, from behind him, prompting Shiro to stretch just to cover his lover from her eyes. The witch looks at the idol behind them, glowing faintly under the moonlight, as if she resents it.

“You’ve been lucky all this time. But you’ve led me to find something valuable.” She chuckles, staring at her long fingernails, careful not to step a toe in the water of the fountain. “Do you know how much a rich man would pay for a witch slave? Just the novelty will raise the prices. Even if his powers are functionally useless…”

 _No! I won’t let you take him!_ Shiro barks, spit flying around as he attempts to look rabid. Those teeth are not only intimidating – they would hurt, they would sink into their flesh with ease. This doesn’t seem to phase any of them. The witch even smiles wider.

“Get him,” she says. Her goons approach, swords and arrows raised. “Don’t hurt the boy. They’ll pay higher if he’s clean.”

Shiro senses one hitting the water more than he sees it, stepping around to protect Keith from the assault. The Omega is frozen behind him, his good hand gripping his fur, shaking as he stares at the bloody water below them, crawling to match Shiro’s pace as the wolf pushes the men back. Maybe they can flee, maybe—

Shiro yelps as a projectile land on his back, sticking to the thick skin of his back. It  shakes once, as if in a nervous reflex, buzzing with the pain of the intrusion.

“Shiro!” Keith hiccups next to him. A bit of blood sprayed on his hands. The boy looks at it like it’ll sear holes into his skin.

Shiro can tell it’s only a skin-deep wound. He thanks the thick hide the goddess gave him, remembering grimly that Keith’s skin is soft, pliant and as delicate as paper. This is what he was made to do, protect Keith, with his life if needs be.

Shiro dashes forward as the swordsman comes closer. He knows how barbarian fight, he’s fought them before. It’s easy to follow his steps, to dance around him, find purchase for his teeth on the man's uncovered arm. Shiro’s mouth fills with his warm blood, bitter and tasting of copper. He pulls, shakes his head as the bandit screams in pain. Shiro won’t let go, not until he can drag him to the ground to pounce his throat.

The sword lands on his muzzle, hitting the bone. It bounces back, drawing an angry cry from his opponent. Shiro feels the pinpricks of arrows on his back, rising on his hind legs to try to topple the brute.

A blinding pain forces him to pull away, yowls of agony tapering out into whimpers of pain. He falls to his side. Managing to stand up, he only falls again, nostrils filling with water. Shiro notices, even though it’s not as painful as it should, that his right front leg is lying in the water. It’s bloody, dirty… Shiro hears Keith scream in the distance – “Please, don’t kill him, please! I’ll do whatever you want!” – turns around to Keith’s hands clinging to him.

Shiro barely feels the loss of his limb beyond the initial pain. He stands back up, finds the sword-wielding thug and jumps on him. The precision he’s lost comes back in sheer power. The man falls and Shiro powerful jaws close around the fragile bones of his face, breaking, shattering. He goes for the throat next, silencing his screams.

“He’s gettin’ away!” one of the marksmen call, pointing to Keith. Shiro’s glad. He’ll catch up later. Keith needs to go. The witch follows him, Shiro limps behind with terrorizing barks.

The witch starts to run.

That’s fear in her eyes. Shiro recognises it. He thirsts to feel her blood spray into his mouth, pouring down his throat.

An arrow lands just in his left foot’s heel, crossing the bone. Shiro cries, dragging himself forward as Keith turns back, letting an archer rush to catch him.

“Shiro!” His voice is shrill. The man pulls Keith to his chest, to Keith’s shrieking and kicking, still calling his mate’s name in desperation. “Let me go! Let me go! I’ll come with you – just don’t kill him, no!”

The wolf only understands when he feels a knife enter and leave his back, once, twice…

“Fucker was tenacious, I’ll give ‘im that,” the Alpha says, watching as the wolf sways, still crawling to try to get to his lover. His back is covered in arrows, making him look like a gruesome hybrid of a canid and a porcupine. He whines, staring at Keith as the boy fights, mouth covered with a ripped stripe of his ruined clothes.

“He’ll die in a moment,” the witch says, dusting herself as Shiro pulls himself closer with grunts of pain, centimetres by centimetres , to the edge of the pond, calling meekly for his lover. “Just let him be. That’ll keep the brat in check.”

Keith manages to untangle himself a moment, yanking the gag away, calling again, through frantic sobs, “Shiro! Shiro, please – Shiro!”

“Let him tire himself out,” she sneers, glaring at the flailing Omega. “If he doesn’t, we’ll shut him up one way or another.”

Shiro pulls himself until he can’t move anymore, exhausted, breathing through harsh gasps. His vision swims as he lifts his head, trying to see his mate until he disappears on the horizon, screaming, still. Shiro’s head falls again, heavy, tired. His eyes won’t stay open.

He’s lost too much blood – his nose doesn’t seem to bring him as much oxygen as it should, forcing him to pant through his open mouth. The petals around him scatter, revealing the lush grass underneath. Shiro thinks of Keith, taken from him, forced to see him butchered like a wild dog.

“You don’t deserve this.”

It’s such a soft, lovely voice. Shiro whines, glassy eyes seeking the woman speaking to him. She’s nowhere to be seen, until he hears footsteps in the water.

“Come to me, warrior.”

No, he must… go to Keith. Shiro stands, his weary body only managing half a step before he falls over, grunting, trying again. There’s no time for this. Keith… is in danger. He must save him. This is his duty, as a husband, as his companion. He’s promised it to himself, to Keith’s father or to the memory of him.

“Your love will not keep you or him alive in your state… come to me, warrior. I’ll give you what you need to slay the enemies in your path.”

It’s so difficult to stand again, even more to turn around. Shiro drags himself more than he walks, pushing himself with his good leg, paw digging the earth in front of him to pull.

Pull, push, pull, push…

It takes him long minutes, but he’s in the water again. He expects to breathe a mouthful of it but no such thing happens. Gentle hands hold his head, laying him on a comfortable pair of thighs.

This woman smells a little like Keith. The Alpha whines at the thought of his mate, in dire danger, defenceless, intended to be sold as a slave, to people who will do gods know what – and those who caught him, too… Shiro tries to beg.

_You need to save him. Please – bring him back to his father. To Allura… somewhere safe._

He’s so, so tired.

His eyes close on their own. His body is so thoroughly exhausted that he barely feels as she pulls the arrows out of his back, her long white hair tickling his nose.

“You’ve protected my child all these years. You fought so valiantly for him.” She sounds… moved. Shiro dares to look. She’s beautiful, looks much like Keith, with a straight nose and pretty lips. Her body is covered in a sheer cloak, made of a pearlescent material so shiny that Shiro thinks he’s laying in a cloth of stars.

He still failed, Shiro thinks. They took Keith away.

 _Let me fight for him, one last time,_ Shiro tries, steeling his resolve with the last of his strength.

_If it’s the last thing I do._

If it means he would die, Shiro accepts it. Death is nothing if he can keep him safe.

“You truly love him?”

Gods, he does. There’s not a star in the sky he wouldn't unhinge for him, the moon even if Keith asks him to. His body and his mind are worthy price for Keith's safety. Shiro only mourns his lover’s happiness, knowing how much it would hurt him, if he is to pass. Being bereaved, once again, as much as it pains Shiro, would be better than the fate reserved for him now.

_Please._

“You don’t need to beg me, warrior. I’ll lead those you seek home.”

 

 

Shiro wakes up on a carpet of flowers. He breathes in, then out.

Back to normal.

He touches his right arm.

Gone.

But his side is furless, covered in boiled leather armour. There’s a hide cloak around his neck. Shiro stands – he’s still dizzy, from what he assumes is the aftereffects of the blood loss. When he touches his nose, he finds a deep scar, gruesome, but perfectly healed. He can breathe.

He turns around, expecting to see Selas in the waters of the fountain again. She’s nowhere to be seen. Shiro finds a finely crafted sword at his feet, light and swift. He closes his eyes, grips the pommel. It’s a luxite blade, a kind of steel that Shiro didn’t think anyone but the Marmoras knew how to craft. It’s pale, incredibly reflective. Shiro tries it – it’s a master’s work, light and swift.

Now nothing will stand in his way.

“I’ll always find him,” he promises. “I won't let anything happen to him.”

 

 

 

**xi.**

 

 

 

Keith screams until his voice is hoarse.

It’s no use – they all ignore him. He calls for Shiro, hoping to see the wolf rise at the end of the road, even though he can’t find the bushes that lead to the fountain. The woods are thick, letting out none of the moon that shone on the fountain. The thick canopy of leaves let no moon beam into the woods either, making them pitch dark.

Shiro never comes.

_Shiro’s nose, oh goddess, his nose —_

Keith hopes that the darkness around him would make it impossible to see his mate, dashing to them to catch him, toppling the bandit holding him like a sack of grains. His fur is so dark, after all.

_Stop! Stop hurting him!_

When it becomes too hard to call for his mate, Keith turns to anger.

“I’ll kill all of you sons of bitches!” he screeches, fighting against the hands that grip his wrists behind his back, uncaring for the throbbing warmth of his injured shoulder. He yells with both rage and pain, in the vain hope that someone could hear. “I’ll never let you get a good price out of me. You’ll be selling me for _dust_ because I’ll never be good, I’ll never obey!”

“How ‘bout you shut up!” the ruffian holding him screams, louder than he did, landing a resounding slap on Keith's ass.

It earns him an indignant squeak from Keith, gathering the laughter of his companions. Keith’s never felt so _insulted_ in his entire life.

“I’ll fucking kill— _hmpf_!”He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before a large, dirty hand slams on his mouth. Keith suffocates at the rancid smell it carries, still vainly attempting to get away, feet kicking the air.

“Shut him up,” the witch says, tired with Keith’s misbehaving. “If he wants us to sell him to a brothel, we can let him ruin the better options. His worth’s quite low anyway. They prefer virgins.”

Why should he care, Keith thinks, still exhausting himself by wriggling more, in hopes of slithering out, like an eel from a fisherman’s hands.

Why should he care?

_Dead. Bloody. The water —_

Without Shiro, he has nowhere to go. Their home will become one of his brothers’ property. So will their fields, their crops, their cattle. Their employees’ contracts will go into their hands. Their riches will become theirs.

_That paw that fell —_

And so will he. He’s Shiro’s to their eyes, part of the furniture. Mated to a dead man, available for a new marking or to use for whatever they please. Keith knows none of them is desperate enough to marry a barbarian. He’s never seen any of them. Shiro never speaks of them either.

Running away, disarmed and alone, with painful injuries, is a terrible option on its own. If he can leave, will he ever make it to Allura’s home, where he could be safe? The road is full of danger. Allura might be a Queen but Keith isn’t sure she can resist the will of all her citizens and their self-importance without risking retaliations. Omegas always had the shorter hand of the stick.

The witch doesn’t sound too disappointed by Keith's fighting. She turn to Keith, disdain clear in her sharp features, beak-like noise wrinkled. She knows. She knows that Keith’s options are gone now, that everywhere will be a hard place and his nature will be the rock.

“Yes, miss Haggar,” the man complies, dropping Keith to the ground, keeping a hold on his wrists.

Keith still tries to slip away, hissing in pain as the grip becomes tighter and tighter. It’ll leave ugly, dark bruises. Maybe it’ll lower his price.

The man hits him on the neck, precise and swift. Keith tries to stay awake, only managing to turn to watch their satisfied faces.

Everything turns black.

 

 

 

Shiro’s senses are still as keen as a wolf’s. He can smell everything in the busy forest, from the skipping deers and does to the scurrying squirrels. There’s a lazy bear eating blueberries somewhere close, Shiro can tell by the way the smell comes to him in tiny bursts, like the fruits popped on the animal’s tongue.

He doesn’t miss his arm.

Well – he probably will, someday.

It’s not hindering him. Shiro can still run and jump, managing his landings with ease with only three limbs. He rolls and catches himself, tussling the thick cover of dead leaves of the forest floor as he rushes down a slope.

It’s like he can see the smell, tell exactly where they went. Keith’s smell fills his nose, his anguish and his torment tainting it forever. This is what nightmares smell like, he thinks, bringing the ripped stripe of Keith’s _chiton_ to his nose, inhaling it to keep his nose working.

He’s only ever had one mission.

To protect Keith.

Shiro doesn’t care about anything else. Ever since he had met Keith his priorities had shifted, like this was always bound to happen, just like this. As if his body was always meant to shield Keith from the cold, as if his arm was meant to slay anyone who dared slight him.

Maybe that’s why he never felt at home anywhere. If Shiro is as studious as he is, it’s because he once plunged into books to cover his loneliness. He connected with his entourage, attended assembly, participated in war, engaged in a citizen’s life. Yet, there was always something missing for him, something… that he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

It was Keith. It still is.

To be destined or not doesn’t matter. Keith is his soulmate in the most realistic sense of the expression: a kindred spirit, who thinks alike, a company he wouldn’t be able to do without.

His poor Keith – Shiro sees him still, screaming for him, scooped up by that man. Keith fought, kicking, punching, trashing… the man had just laughed, as if the boy’s distress was _hilarious_.

Shiro can’t even dare to imagine what they are doing to him right now, sick brutes that they are. Or what they will do with him, later, how they will ruin such a beautiful soul – no. He can’t think like that.

There’s no way he can’t save him, or at least make sure he is safe, Shiro tells himself, boots sloshing into a creek.

Shiro leans to the floor, his keen hunter eyes seeing the footsteps. There’s something dirty stuck in the mud, a flimsy piece of a once-white cloak attached to it… Shiro recognises the brooch of Keith’s ritual clothes, picking it up to look at it, dusting the earth from it. The carvings show a wolf and a moon, united, in harmony.

Shiro pulls it to his chest. The aggression of the wolf is still there, thrumming like a war drum below his breastplate. Shiro clasps the brooch on the wolf fur shawl around his neck, to keep it safe.

He runs for part of the night, soon coming to the end of the tracks. There's an old hut, decrepit, the rock façade bleached by the sun, bricks eaten by the salt of the sea. There used to be a garden around it, Shiro can tell, but the plants are now wild and overgrown, the liege even shielding the view of the windows.

The seaside air is filled with salt, overpowering his nose, rendering it useless. Shiro guesses he’ll have to rely on his other senses, other skills to retrieve Keith.

He’s got plenty of those, Shiro thinks, grinning. These bandits don’t know what’s in store for them.

He approaches the door, silent as a wolf, eyes going from the ground to the house to make sure he’s not stepping on a branch. There’s murmurs inside – he can’t quite make out what they’re saying, he needs to get closer…

The door doesn’t close all the way. Shiro stands behind, grip tight on the pommel of the sword.

They’re talking about money. The three marksmen, but… where’s the witch?

“A thousand drachms? Really?” The first man says, scoffing. “As if.”

For what? Shiro feels the pit of dread open up in his stomach.

Where _is_ that damn witch?

“Well, y’know,” the second one replies. His voice is annoyingly nasal, “Lots of men would pay a pocketful of coins just for the experience."

Shiro’s blood becomes uncomfortably warm. The fingers on his sword hitch. Patience. _Patience._ One thing at a time, he decides. These ruffians first and then, he can take the witch without her protectors. He can grab her, smother her…

“Bet he’s freaky,” the first one says. Shiro mentally dubs him Pitch, for how squeaky his voice is. “Saw how he held that wolf? Bet he’s fucked it.”

Nosy laughs, “C’mon. Omegas are horny sluts. He still smells of heat. That doggy must’ve had a great week with him. M’sure that little bitch _loves_ to bend over.”

Patience, Shiro tells himself. Don’t strike too fast. Patience yields focus. He’s only got one chance at this. Any mistake and this could mean the end of him, the end of Keith.

 “And he’s pretty,” A third giggles, lecherous, amused. “I’d give ma’am Haggar a thousand drachms to get a taste. Love the feisty ones like that little shit. He kept fighting me – made me want to fuckin’ bend him ova’.”

Nosy cackles, interest dripping in his tone, “And he’s used goods. Surely, Haggar won’t mind if we… have some fun before we sell him.”

Shiro slams the door before he can stop himself. Too dry to take it, it breaks immediately, bending just like paper. There’s a silence. Shiro doesn’t move.

All bandits rise like they have been hit by thunder, watching him with confusion. Shiro realises he’s only a stranger to them. They think the wolf’s still dead, lying in a pool of its own blood on top of a lonely mountain, leaving his mate to certain death.

“Excuse me,” Shiro says, wanting to sound amicable . He manages to sound factitious, not unlike a wolf in sheep’s clothing. “I thought this old shanty was empty for the night.”

“Sorry, mate,” the third guy say, relaxing his grip on his sword. Shiro names him Pig. “We’re already here for all night. We’ll leave by morning for business in the Empire.”

Right. The Empire is an ever-growing metropolis. Rich men love to drape pretty slaves over them, to show status. The more exotic, the better. What more exotic than a witch, Shiro thinks, using the occasion to approach, “I’ve lived in the Empire for a few years. Perhaps I can help you pick the best road for your journey?”

Shiro doesn’t wait. He comes to him as the man thinks, walking right into the ruins without a care, so confident that the men don’t even move, as if they don’t think he’s there to cause troubles.

Maybe they’re stupider than he first thought.

“That won’t be necessary,” Pig says, clearly the dominant element of the group. “We can find our way on our own. Thanks for offering, fella.” _But now leave_ is the unspoken end to their conversation.

Shiro’s nose wrinkles in annoyance. Pig tries to lead him out the door, gripping his shoulder, eyes narrowing to the silver brooch on his shoulder. Does he remember it, on Keith’s shoulder? Shiro wonders.

Shiro's expression remains unreadable. His fingers twitch to hold his sword.

Shiro wants to think there’s no way Pig will make the link between a dead wolf and him but they are suitors of a witch. Nothing must surprise them anymore.

“Nice clasp,” the man says, taking a step back. “Care to tell where you got that? Maybe I’ll consider asking you what way you’ll propose us through the Empire.”

Oh, he won’t like the answer.

Shiro smirks.

“It’s my mate’s. I’m looking for him. Maybe you’ve seen him.” 

Pig takes a step back. He didn’t expect the wolf to come back, but he doesn’t seem to think he is lying. His hand rushes to his sword but Shiro is faster, stronger. He can nearly taste the smell of his fear as he grabs his hand, a snarl lifting his upper lip with a dangerous growling.

“How’d you – how’d you—” Pig stammers, trying to pull his hand away from Shiro’s grasp. The two others are too stunned to do more than scream and point their arrows at him, aiming for his throat.

Shiro just laughs. “Selas is generous for her warriors. I’ll sell my arm to any master that lets me protect my mate. Get out of the way.”

“Stand back! Fuck off! You were _dead_ —”

Shiro tackles him, drawing his light sword to push it into his opponent’s flimsy armour. The hide doesn’t even resist when Shiro presses the sword into the man's chest His lungs are touched, Pig just gurgles, much like his namesake.

“You’ll never get to touch Keith again. None of you lot ever will.”

An arrow lands over the boiled leather armour, ricocheting off the solid surface. Shiro stands, eyes shining with aggression.

“What are you – “ Nosy screams. Shiro cuts him.

He screams louder, “Where’s he? Where’s that witch?”

An arrow flying past his ear is his only answers. If that’s how it is. Shiro decides he’ll rip this ruin apart to find Keith, tear their throats if they won’t use them to speak. His eyes can see their movements before they even happen, as if he can smell their intent. He slays the first man, then the second.

The commotion causes an outpour of other bandits, coming from all rooms – figures there would be more… the scent of the sea hid them from him. Shiro can’t help but wonder why they waited .

He realises later – he mows through them like they are nothing but grass in his way, the luxite blade easily slicing through their flesh, just like it would have with warm butter. Shiro can’t believe how swift he is, nearly dancing in the room as bodies fall around him. There were no lies about how deadly Selas’ warriors are, how it was almost impossible to touch them.

Shiro’s barely out of breath as the last one falls to his feet.

A shrill scream catches his attention, just behind his back. Shiro’s blade only catches black smoke. He loses his balance for a split second, allowing a hissing shadow to land a hit on him, just on his side. The armour, as solid as it is, rots like a fruit in the sunlight, melting around the clawed talons of the witch.

They bury in his side, burning like iron. It draws a scream out of him – Shiro steps away, regaining his composure quicker than he should have.

“You sick old woman,” Shiro growls.

She’s a shadow around him, eyes glowing in the dim light of the early morning. Shiro’s only a second behind her wherever he swipes, missing each time from a hair’s breadth. He’ll never hit her, he thinks, desperate, before he catches himself. No – he’ll have to. He needs to, for Keith.

The wounds she leaves on him are glowing, lilac, gruesome and grim. Shiro can tell they’re some sort of poisonous magic, leaving him breathless again.

“You should have stayed dead,” Haggar hisses. “Why did she do this for _you_?”

She snarls like she’s insulted her. Shiro’s eyebrow rises, sweat dripping over the bridge of his nose. Whatever she’s done to him, Shiro doesn’t think he’ll stay alive to find the long-term effects. That’s no problem – he just needs to hold on until Keith is safe. He has to.

He coughs something that tastes like blood, trying to find the witch as he twirls around. She’s nowhere to be seen – Shiro nearly hears the smoke wafting through the air, just behind him. Her fingers jam through his middle, knocking the breath out of him. The leather drips over his skin, his legs shake.

There’s a cry of rage.

Then one of pain.

Shiro turns, just in time, to see Keith, driving a blade times and times again into Haggar’s neck.

 

 

 

**xii.**

 

 

 

It’s a cold, dark cellar.

It used to store wine – that much, Keith can tell.

The smell of rotten woods from the barrels marries to the stench of wine turned to vinegar from careless storage. There’s dirt under him, cold and a little wet. The walls are dripping with humidity. Keith can barely take the stuffy air of the room.

Not that being indisposed would be even the third of his worries, for now.

Where is he?

Where are those men, the witch?

He swallows, unable to hear anything. He can’t even see in the darkness, shivering in the cold. His ruined clothes offer no protection and Keith only hopes he won’t become ill from spending time in here. It wouldn’t surprise him – his health hasn’t been so strong, ever since Shiro…

When Shiro first disappeared. He’s heard grief can do this, sometimes.

It must’ve been hours now, Keith thinks, eyes watering as he thinks of his mate. Laying in the water, bloody, mangled. His back covered in arrows, with pouring rivers of blood between the fur of his back. Shiro remembers his dreams of death, of rolling to embrace his lovers and find his body, rotten, leaving stains in the blankets and mattress.

The image leaves a taste of bile in his mouth.

Keith tries not to think about it.

The vacancy leaves room for him to think of too many other things, none of them happy. These people intend to sell him, for the novelty of his magic. Keith isn’t sure what it can be used for, what it’ll manifest as. He’s never had the chance to try it out. Allura’s is flowers, which allowed her to make exotic plants grow at he and Shiro’s wedding.

Ah, Shiro.

Even when he tries not to think of him, the man always manages to come right back into his thoughts.

The silence makes everything heavier.

Keith tries to stop himself from sobbing pitifully, tied and already sold to misery, in soul if not physically, wet and hot tears rolling over the bridge of his nose. He curls tighter, hiccupping without being able to hold the noises. If he can’t hear anyone, maybe no one can hear him, he thinks, comforted in the thought that no one will see him like this.

He’ll never see Allura again.

For once, he’ll be the one leaving.

She’ll never hear of him again.

Keith would like to think the uncertainty would give her a comfort, the hope that he might come back someday. He’s known this uncertainty enough to know that hope is a double-edged blade. Its other side, sharp as hope is gentle, is waiting. Waiting, endlessly, staring at the void left by whatever has vanished.

Maybe it’s better that he saw Shiro die, Keith thinks. He’ll never have to hope to see him again, he’ll never have to be disappointed to see never see him, rushing toward him, as the sun embraces his back.

All things that he’s still hoping for his father. Hope grows tiring after it’s been deceitful too many times.

There’s no hope for Shiro. The thought digs a deep hole inside of him, painful, as if he were the one who had been stabbed.

Keith realises with grim resignation that certainty is no better than hope.

At least, he had hope before.

 

 

 

Keith wakes with a start when the door opens, letting light pour into the tiny room.

Aware of his near nude, unpresentable state, Keith draws his knees to his chest, blinded by the sudden light. It’s a lamp, carried by a tall, burly man. Keith thinks he kind of looks like a hog, big and hairy, the wolf hides he wears barely covering anything of him.

Keith’s too weary to move, wearier when he thinks there’s nowhere he can run. His shoulder stings as he pulls himself up, refusing to be as vulnerable as a beached whale. He won’t go down without a fight – Keith readies his legs, nearly hoping he’ll get to kick the fucker. He tests the ropes – tight. He’ll have to do without.

“Awake, uh, pretty baby?” the Alpha croons. He smells of old sweat and millet brew. Keith nearly gags.

He stays silent.

“You were noisy before.” He doesn’t need him to talk. Great. Because Keith won’t say a word. He imagines his own mouth, sewed shut. Keith won’t need it now; his worth lies lower than his wits.  “Are you as noisy when you get fucked than you were earlier?” The man asks, lubricious, tongue licking his lips.

No preamble. Just the question.

Keith tries to hide.

It’s not like he didn’t expect it. He’s worth less for being mated, for having already had his first heat.

There really is nothing protecting him.

He won’t give that asshole the satisfaction of hearing him. Even if this is all jest to scare him. Keith knows some freaks get off on that. He dearly hopes this man just loves to terrify Omegas with empty threats.

“Aw, c’mon. Y’were so chatty before, baby.”

Don’t call me that, Keith thinks, glaring at the man. He bites his tongue not to speak.

“What happened? Cat got your tongue?” He chuckles, coming closer. He sets the light next to him, delightfully warm in the cold of the cellar. “Come on, sweetheart. Don’t be so shy. You’ll have to be extra nice if you want your owner to treat you nicely so why not start now?”

Never. Keith just stares right ahead. He’ll give them nothing. Not to them, not to whoever will buy him.

“Will you let that brat alone, Aleks?” Haggar growls from the door, hoarse and shrill voice bringing a cold shiver to his back. Keith swallows.

If that pervert didn’t faze him the witch is an entire other story. Keith can’t even look at her without feeling dread squeeze his innards like vices finding their ways into the cracks of a brick wall, anywhere they can.

“Get out of here. No damages before the merchandise is sold or I’ll sell _you_ to make up for the loss,” she snarls, prompting the Alpha to all but flee the room, leaving his lamp behind.

She doesn’t speak anymore, dragging her body forward without anymore words. Keith looks at her, surprised to see her from so close. She’s not as old as he would have expected, looks only forty or so, maybe fifties, if he would be feeling petty.

She murdered Shiro, he remembers.

And he _is_ quite petty.

She looks good for an old woman. Keith glares at her, feeling the rage he’s repressed come back as she rummages through a bag.

“You killed my husband,” he says, voice tight with fury.

“The Warrior?” she says, clearly disinterested. She picks a small container, opens it. There’s a medicinal aroma wafting from it – she pulls him forward unceremoniously, slathering the cold mixture on his aching shoulder.

The humidity made it so sensitive, Keith can’t help a sigh at the numbing sensation. Finally, this is over.

“He’d have left you,” she says.

“Shiro wouldn’t leave me,” Keith replies right away. Wouldn’t have. His body warmth makes the generous amount of pomade slip down his shoulder and back. It’s greasy – uncomfortable.

“You’re young,” Haggar deplores. “Still naïve. You’ve chosen a lonely life. Would he still have loved a witch? I doubt that.”

“Shiro’s a better man than any other,” Keith counter. Would have. Would still. Always. From beyond, if Keith would let go of his cynicism. “It’d take more than this.”

Haggar scoffs. She wraps bandages around his shoulder, pulling on his arm, revelling in the pained sounds that come from Keith. “They all say this. He’ll make you believe that but he’d have tossed you as soon as you weren’t pretty.” She cuts them with a blade. Keith can see himself in it – he looks sick, pale and messy.

“Shiro’s not whoever threw your saggy old ass away,” Keith spits, dreadfully honest.

Haggar rewards him with a slap. She’s about to say more when a commotion happens upstairs, muffled by the heavy door. Men screams, one barges through, falling down, blood pouring out his neck.

“S’a demon, s’a demon – the demon…”

Keith sees the witch troubled for the first time. She runs out, gnarling as she disappears through the penumbra of the night. This… is his chance, Keith realises. He pulls on his ropes – they’re tight, his shoulder hurts, but…

The ointment slipped to his wrists, coating them in a fine layer of it. Keith tugs, cringing at the burning of the ropes. It’s not enough – blood soon joins, thick and warm, until he finally manages to free one hand.

Keith makes quick work of the knots, heart hammering in his chest as he looks to the still half-open door. No one there. Keith runs to it, crossing over his body…

He stops, noticing a shiny blade to his side. Keith grabs it, seeing himself in the blade again. This time, he looks alive, flushed, conscious, driven.

He runs, still, both hands on the pommel.

The room he comes into smells like copper – a massacre happened, one last man is standing, fighting with a shadow… Keith’s eyes narrow. This is –

He sees Haggar, her image flickering through the room, yet he can see her clear as day.

There’s this man, attacking her as she tears holes into him. He won’t back down, like he has something to gain from winning, something important.

When Keith nearly chokes when he recognises him., beneath the now white fringe and the deep, jagged scar in the middle of his face.

It’s Shiro! Keith thinks he’s dreaming. Could he have him back, again, another time, It sounds impossible but Shiro was a wolf just a day ago.

The surprise nearly makes him miss how Haggar’s hand is entering Shiro’s armour, on his back, breaching it like it would be only paper.

Blood pours.

Keith screams, runs.

No, not again.

No this.

He can’t take this, he needs… he needs him back.

Haggar didn’t expect him. She falls, screams when her body hits the ground. Keith sees terror in her eyes when he drives the blade, deep into her tender flesh. He does it once, twice, thrice… He doesn’t stop, even when he’s out of breath.

Someone catches his hand.

Keith turns to fight, drunk on adrenaline. His eyes meet Shiro’s. The fight drains out of him.

They look at each other for long moments, as if both unable to believe that they are there, able to just reach out and touch.

A dam breaks. Keith can’t help his tears as he leans into Shiro’s shoulder.

“I missed your arms,” he sobs out, breathing hard through the hug.

Shiro rubs his back, squeezing him tight, then laughs. “I hope one is enough for you, sweetheart.” He tries to joke but the Alpha’s voice is also tight.

He coughs, once, then twice.

There’s blood all over him, especially on his belly. Keith sees the rotten leather, shaped in a perfect circle just over a fist-sized hole, leaking purple blood.

Keith feels faint.

Shiro himself slides against his body, coughing up again. Something wet lands against his shoulder.

“Oh, baby,” Shiro says, weak and exhausted.

Keith lies him down, hovering above him as he tries to assess the wound. It’s… unlike anything he’s ever seen, big and gaping, deep and pulsing. Keith cries as he remembers what he was told as a child, to apply pressure. It’s – it should be searing but Keith feels like he’s touching a block of ice.

Just as Keith puts both hands over his stomach, Shiro stops him.

“No use, baby,” he murmurs, pulling Keith closer. “Came one side, left the other…”

“No!” Keith screams, frantic, pulling away to apply pressure again. “No, no – Shiro, you can’t – don’t leave—”

Shiro’s hand finds his. He laces their fingers, moist from the blood. Keith wipes his eyes and nose, crying messily, face smeared with blood. “No – no, Shiro, I need to…” Keith yanks his hand out of Shiro’s grasp, the Alpha’s fingers too weak to hold him back. He’s breathing hard, as if the deep scar over his nose keeps him from breathing right.

Keith stands up to run. He takes Haggar’s bag of medicine. The motley assortment of pots and powders are unlabelled. Keith can’t tell which one would help, which one is a poison. He recognises the one the witch used on his shoulder, rubs it on his palms, drops the content over Shiro’s wounds. The man barely reacts.

“Please,” he begs, but Keith doesn’t know who.

_Let me keep him._

Anything that will listen.

_I need him._

Shiro’s silent, unmoving. Breathing in pants.

_Don’t take him from me._

With both hands on the cold wound, Keith leans into Shiro’s shoulder, crying softly.

“Don’t go,” Keith wheezes, coughing through his sobs. “Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go…”

“Baby…” There’s nothing more Shiro can say. He slumps lower, sliding to Keith’s lap. The boy scrambles to hold his head in the crook of his shoulder.

“We, we should go to the pond. Maybe – maybe Selas can… she brought you back, maybe she can…”

Shiro brings a wet hand to his cheek. Keith turns to kiss his palm, uncaring for the blood, gripping his hand.

“Shiro, please. Get up, we – we have to go home. Please.”

“Baby, I don’t… think I can walk.” Shiro exhales, slow calculated. Like his body won’t do it on its own anymore. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You… I’m sure you… can find your way to Allura. You led us here, you… you’ve led us all the way here.”

Keith wails. “I don’t want to go home without you. Please…”

“She said. Selas.” Shiro coughs again. He needs a moment to speak, breathing hard, trying and failing to find words and strength. “Your father, he – she said she’d… I think. He’s alive.”

Keith remembers how hope was a cruel companion. He remembers how pessimism was a sullen comfort.

“I don’t want him without you,” Keith says, truthfully, bringing his face closer to hear his mate’s rasps. Hope left, leaving the worms of certitude to hollow him, one little burrow at a time. These holes will let the cold penetrate him.

He’ll never be warm again without Shiro’s embrace.

“Don’t say that.” Shiro swallows. “Keith, I love you. Never loved… anyone like you.”

Keith breaks down, sobbing into Shiro’s shoulder. “I don’t want this. I don’t want to be without you.” Begging is no use. He feels Shiro’s chest swell with each difficult breath. Keith holds him closer, watching as Shiro’s head lolls on his shoulder, the man’s glassy grey eyes staring to him.

“Baby,” Shiro whispers. “Please.”

“Okay,” Keith agrees, voice so tight it comes out as a pitiful little squeak. His face contorts with pain as Shiro’s eyes close.

The silence grows thicker. There’s something different in the air.

Shiro left him again.

Keith sits there, holding Shiro’s body without hearing him breathe again. He sniffles, despair so deep he can only cry silently, caressing his lover’s face, as if to map it out, so he can never forget it.

Keith’s always known this happiness couldn’t last. Something would come to ruin it. Maybe witches don’t deserve this kind of love, don’t deserve a home, don’t deserve someone. Haggar was right, perhaps. The Fates have taken Shiro from him, surely because there’s no way his lover would have stopped loving him for being what he is. Shiro always welcomed him, arms open, smile gentle, accepting, even when he couldn’t understand.

“You’re everything I’ve ever needed,” Keith says against his mouth. Shiro’s still warm as he presses their foreheads together, unable to let go, still. “All I’ll ever want.”

Shiro will leave a gaping hole inside of him. Keith stares at the one inside Shiro’s belly, tears rolling down his cheeks and nose. There’s one just like this, right under Keith’s skin.

He’ll never be whole again, Keith realises, once again, resigned to his state.

A warm hand touches his shoulder. Keith whips to see behind him, staring right into the eyes of a tall woman, with deep blue eyes. Her hair is white, her skin almost as pale as her long hair. There’s red crescents under her cheeks, much like Keith’s. She smiles, tender, motherly, crouches to kiss his forehead.

“Mom,” Keith chokes.

She leads his hand to Shiro’s side, over the gaping wounds.

“I’ve given you everything you need,” she promises him, speaking as softly as the flight of a butterfly. “All my children need, I give it to them. You’ll never be alone, my darling.”

Keith feels something warm under his hand. When he turns back, with Selas’ comforting hands holding both his shoulders, Keith notices a dim light coming from his palm. Maybe… Keith presses it to Shiro’s opened stomach. His palm burns with energy. It prickles, like an electric current is going through it.

He leans over him, staring in desperate awe as the hole closes, the skin gluing itself back together, as if nothing had ever happened. Shiro’s body warms, like Keith’s hand is insufflating it into his flesh. The Omega gasps, sensing hope pouring into the anthill dug in his flesh. It comes like a torrent, promising a great drought when it’ll evaporate because Keith can’t stop it. The dams have broken long ago.

Pink comes back to Shiro’s cheeks. Keith brings his hand to his cheek, looking at him with a need that surprises even him. He can’t be without him, he knows. Not so fast, not like this. Shiro breathes slowly, softly. Like his lungs are tentatively trying oxygen again, like muscle memory.

Keith leans in to kiss him.

“Don’t leave me,” he asks, knowing Shiro would never refuse him anything.

Shiro’s eyes open, slowly, not unlike a new born.

Keith holds his breath as Shiro breathes again, propping himself on his remaining arm to look at him, clearly confused to find himself alive. Keith can only laugh in relief. Somehow, he can still find tears in himself. Perhaps it’s the hope, finding a hole to leave from. Shiro pulls him closer, kissing the top of his head. His arm holds him tight.

“Don’t let go.”

“Never will,” Shiro answers, voice as tight with emotion as his.

They stay like this for a while, wrapped in each other. Their breath are a comfort to both of them, as none of them thought they’d ever hear the harmony of them. Keith is boneless against Shiro, clinging to him like a lifeline.

Eventually, they part, just to look at one another. Shiro’s hand go to his mate’s hair, touching them. Still as silky, he seems to notice, combing the tangles out of the long, snowy strands.  “I’ve been meaning to say,” Shiro meets his eyes, honest, open. “This… changes nothing. Whatever you are, whoever you are… I’ll still love you. Always. And… the hair is actually really cute.”

Keith smiles, thinking himself dumb to have ever thought that. He reaches to Shiro’s white fringe. “Yours too,” he assures, scooting a little closer.

They embrace each other again, letting their emotions tapper out. They’re both drained. Keith doesn’t think they’ll be having an adventure for a long, long time now. It’s not something he can be sad about. For now… he’ll be content to be with Shiro, wrapped in him, in the garden of their villa.

That’s the only place he wants to be.

Shiro gently helps him up, leading him out of the decrepit hut. Outside, dawn is breaking, the sun commencing its lazy course across the summer skies. The air is cool and smells like the sea. Keith breathes it in, clinging to Shiro’s side.

“I’ll bring us home,” Shiro promises, kissing Keith’s temple.

It’s a long way home.

Better start now.

Keith can’t wait for them to be home again.

 

 

 

**xiii: epilogue.**

Dawn breaks outside their bedroom.

Shiro stares at the way the sunrise paints his daughter’s cheeks with fire, highlighting the chubbiness of her entire body. She’s so new, came to the world barely minutes ago and Shiro can only stare, moved by the tiny hands that grasp his fingers. She’s peaceful, snug against her dam’s chest.

Keith chuckles at the way Shiro sniffles, still.

“Are you still crying?” he asks, slurring a little from how exhausted he is.

The birth was difficult. First ones can be, Shiro’s heard, especially without a midwife to help. They sent someone to get her as soon as the contractions started. She never came. Shiro thinks she might have been busy already, that another Omega might have been welcoming a new life into their home.

Everything turned out alright nonetheless. She’ll still come. Labour can last for hours, Keith’s had nearly twelve hours of pushing, moving around, changing positions… it was hard. Shiro was terrified and he still is a little. When their daughter finally fell into Keith’s hands, Shiro couldn’t help but burst into tears.

It… wasn’t his proudest moment. It doesn’t matter. Shiro doesn’t care, not when he can look at the most beautiful thing in the word. Keith’s not bad, too.

“Can’t a man cry at his first child’s birth?” Shiro chuckles, running his hand through Keith’s hair. “I’m sure your father will cry, too.”

Keith laughs, sleepily brushing the sleeping baby’s back. “Of course. Dad… he’s been waiting for this since…”

Since Thace arrived, in fact. Keith had been showing when the man appeared, apologising for his years of absence. He’d been caught in the Empire, sold as a slave and had managed to flee. Allura sent him there. Ever since, Shiro welcomed him, glad to have Keith’s father with them. They got along well as soon as Thace understood that Keith’s happiness was Shiro’s priority.

For Keith… it’s a little difficult.

He loves his father. Shiro will never doubt of that.

Still… he’s been gone for most of his life. As much as he loves his father, he’s not the man he remembers. For Thace, too, Keith is no more the little boy he’s left to his old friend’s care. Reconciling the two is a difficult task but Keith is determined to do it, to re-establish the once close relationship he had with the man. It’s a long process. Both of them are trying hard, slowly learning to know the person they are now.

The man is eager to see his son’s child, to become a grandfather, too. Keith hopes this will help them be closer, that it will teach Thace that he’s an adult now. And a parent, too.

Their daughter huffs, nose frowning in annoyance.

“Oh, no,” Shiro croons, thumbing her cheek with sweet noises.

“She’s hungry,” Keith says, bringing her to his chest, sitting up to let the baby drink. His eyes close, arms lax as she starts to suckle. Shiro sits too, pulling Keith to his chest to help him hold the baby, laying his head against his shoulder to watch. “Thanks,” Keith says, using him as a pillow to rest his eyes.

The sight is unlike anything Shiro’s ever seen. The child’s closed eyes, content and happy as long as she is held and fed, Keith’s still round stomach. The umbilical chord still links them, a testimony to just how recently their child produced her first wail. Shiro knows they should cut it but none of them know for sure where. The afterbirth has yet to happen. Shiro thinks sitting up might help.

The mattress is ruined – the baby surprised them by the breaking of Keith’s water as the Omega tried to nap, kept awake since the previous day by the increasingly powerful contractions. Shiro doesn’t care for the material. He’ll replace it later. He can go to the city, later. Not today. They can sleep on hay for a few days.

Keith might prefer sleeping on his chest, Shiro thinks with a fond smile. His mate is nearly asleep, trusting him to hold their child to his breast. Shiro still looks at her, smitten, in love. He loved her when she was in Keith’s womb, and even before. A flutter under his wife’s taunt skin, a warm swell, a tiny bump, a knowledge, an idea…

She’s there and she’s perfect.

“You told me you thought of a name,” Shiro says. “Said you’d tell me if it fits when she’s born. Do you think it fits?”

Keith nods, slowly.

“Yeah. Áine.”

Shiro thinks of how scandalous it will be, for her to have a Marmora name. He laughs at the idea. They can be scandalized if they want. He looks at her. She yawns, pulling away, delighting in the warm milk in her belly.

“It sounds beautiful.”

Keith smiles, snuggling into Shiro’s hold. He brings Áine to his other swollen tit, leaking from the other’s stimulation. She latches, happily drinking. Shiro feels like he’s holding a treasure, pulls their last clean blanket over them as Keith shivers in the chilly autumn air.

Shiro hears footsteps outside the door, coming and going in anxious circles. That’s Thace, he can tell, from the smell and sound.

“Are you ready for your father to meet her?” Shiro tries, knowing just seeing Keith for a moment will settle the man’s concern.

Keith takes a moment to turn to him, seeming a little apprehensive himself. Shiro squeezes his arm. He’s there. There’s nothing to worry – Thace will understand they’re tired and that Keith wants to rest, have some private time between their new family. Áine pulls off with a soft yawn, tiny eyes fluttering as she falls asleep against Keith’s chest, with an adorable sigh.

Both him and Keith can’t help the noise of distressed fondness it pulls out of them.

She will be their princess.

The death of them both. Shiro already knows the feeling with Keith.

Thace knocks at the door.

“Keith? Shiro? Are you both alright?”

Keith tenses. Shiro brushes his forearm.

“He must be worried. You were noisy all night. Do you want… to let him in? I can tell him you’re fine. And that you’ll see him later.” Shiro thinks of Keith first. As much as he empathises with Thace, Keith is his priority. Right now, always.

Keith is silent for a minute or so, breathing out before he nods.

“Let him in,” he says. “I… want to see him. And… I’m sure he’ll be happy to meet his granddaughter. Just… give me a shirt.”

Shiro smiles, proud of Keith’s decision. He kisses his forehead, standing up to walk to the door. Thace stands behind, fumbling with himself, regaining his stoic demeanour as soon as their eyes meet. Shiro leads him inside, to the bed.

“Hi, Dad.” Keith seems nervous, watching the little bundle in his arms with love and apprehension. Shiro knows he’ll be a good parent. He hopes he can do just as well as he trusts Keith to do. “This is Áine,” he presents their daughter to him, pulling the blankets a little lower to show her lovely face, her hair dark just like theirs.

Thace’s face tightens with emotion.

“She’s beautiful,” he says, reaching to touch her after looking to Keith for permission. She looks tinier under the Alpha’s big hands. Thace cries in joy. Keith holds his hand, prompting his father to hug him too.

“I, I love you, my little prince.”

Keith hugs back, looking at Shiro as Thace controls himself, like an _aristoi_ should. Shiro can’t help but feel a little sad, but as soon as Keith and Thace start happily chatting about their daughter, Shiro sees how happy Keith is. It’s hard for him to show, as if he’s scared to invest the love he’s kept for so long inside of him into his real father.

He’s scared of being hurt again, Shiro knows.

But… Keith tries. Keith relaxes, lets himself be open, vulnerable, even. He’s happy, leaning into Thace’s side as his father fondly talks about how Keith used to be as a child, careful not to overwhelm his son.

Shiro smiles.

There’s nothing to worry about.

Shiro sits on the bed, wrapping one arm around Keith, silently supporting Keith as he bonds with his father.

This is perfect.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> big thanks to everyone for reading!  
> remember to kudos and comment ifyou liked the fic!


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